Guilty Conscience
by sofasitter
Summary: Season 3, 'Guilt' fic. Alex's 30-day suspension finally comes to an end, will it be make or break for her and Olivia. Rated M for a reason, last chapter up 'finally! A/O
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer – **Characters remain the property of the creators of Law and Order: SVU, I'm just playing with them for a bit of fun.

**Author note – **This is set around the season 3 episode 'Guilt' but has spoilers for other season 3 episodes as well. Picks up mid way through the episode right after Sam Cavanaugh overdoses, when Elliot stops Linda Cavanaugh from attacking Alex and Olivia runs to protect her.

(I had said the next thing I wrote would be a Jane/Maura, Rizzoli/Isles fic … but this just wanted to be written …)

Rating might go to M later, I'm not sure yet.

**That night …**

**Apartment of Alexandra Cabot, ADA**

It was the way her fingers trembled, as she rummaged through the ridiculously large set of keys, searching for the one to unlock the door to her apartment that first told me things between us were different somehow.

I took them from her, and she glanced up, a fleeting look of something I'd seen before but only rarely. She was scared, and yet she wasn't scared to let me see that.

"Liv, the door?"

I found the right one and we both went inside, one hand still focused against the small of her back but the other one free to push aside the door to her West 78th Street apartment. Not wrapped around her body anymore like it was in the hospital, shielding her from Sam Cavanaugh's mother and her grief stricken rage.

She looks lost.

At any time during the past – is it nearly two years? – that we've worked together, I've watched her do angry, insolent, enraged and even contrite but never lost. Something about this case is eating her alive and the worst thing about it is now I really know that's not what I want to see happen to her. I'm trying to figure out when it was she took a place in my heart as someone I would take the time for.

"You want some tea?" She asks softly, breaking away from my contact and towards the sink to fill the kettle and place it despondently back on the stove. "Or something stronger?" She offers, "I think I have a bottle of scotch I save for my run-ins with Arthur hanging around here somewhere …"

Her boss's name rolls off her tongue like they went through kindergarten together, and I'm immediately reminded of how she's afraid of no one, and how I always liked that about her.

Until now, that is. Now I think she's afraid of herself.

"Tea's fine."

She's smaller, and with her arms wrapped around her body like that I realise how fragile she could seem to anyone who doesn't know her. Lately all I've noticed is how much more like me she's become, it made me warm to her, I realised she reminded me – of me.

She stopped being afraid of me, I think that's when I noticed her, when I realised she wasn't afraid to call me on my bullshit like everyone else.

So I started calling her on hers.

"Alex, it's not your fault."

She laughs; it's daring and almost comes with a snarl. I know that if I was her and she tried that line with me, I'd be hurling something breakable at her head right now so I'm surprised at my own surprise when a non-descript but no doubt expensive china mug goes flying in the direction of the apartment door, shattering into a million tiny shards.

I can't help but jump, I'm a little bit cautious around her. Not because I think either one of us is in any danger, but because I'm excited to discover that she can be this way.

"Fuck you Liv." She mumbles quietly, before taking out another mug and returning to make the tea.

There's evidence of how she ran out of here the second she took the call, the pyjama pants over the back of the sofa, the slippers by the front door – now covered in fragments of china.

"Sorry." She mutters, picking things up in an effort to tidy. "I left in a bit of a hurry, although who knows why?"

I think this is the first victim I've ever seen her lose herself over, and watching it happen to someone else I'm not so sure that I'm the one to help her.

I remember the first time it happened to me, over an eight year old girl called Jessie. I also remember Elliot with his hands firmly encircling my upper arms in order to stop me from punching the guy's lights out as he calmly walked away from a series of rape charges. I wanted to kill Elliot because I couldn't get the justice I wanted for Jessie. I can still remember the way that need for revenge engulfed me, I wouldn't stop until I had what I wanted so I kicked Elliot's shins until they bled and he released me, then I turned and slapped him hard across the face.

Something about the way this evening is headed leads me to believe there's a good chance Cabot could be giving me my slap anytime soon.

Right now though, she's still languishing in her own self-pity, so I'm safe for a while.

She gestures to the couch, but as has become customary whenever we have a serious discussion of any kind we separate – she takes the couch and I take the well loved armchair. I'd like to think it's about us allowing each other the necessary personal space but in reality it prevents us from doing something we each think we probably ought not.

If we're just hanging out, shooting the breeze after a weekend brunch or a late night Chinese to celebrate light case loads and rare evenings off, then I've no problem sharing a couch with her. It's when her eyes are clouded with emotion and her hands are wrung together too tightly in her lap that I know I can't trust this growing urge inside me to wrap her in my arms and gently soothe the world away.

Right now she looks a little like she could commit murder and I'm fairly sure any attempt on my behalf to soothe anything would be met with a reasonable stab at the death penalty.

"Why do _you_ think he did it?" She asks, without really directing her words towards me – it's more rhetorical so I don't answer. "I suppose we'll never know …" She hypothesises, hugging the mug of tea that little bit tighter. "Unless he wakes up that is …" She glances over at me. "Do _you_ think he'll wake up Liv?"

I shrug. I really don't know.

She looks up at me, and for the briefest second before the shutters go down and the hard steel exterior of Alexandra Cabot, ADA, returns I see her. She's pale because she's appalled by the growing weight of all the depravity she's seen. Her eyes circled with dark lines, evidence of the unsettling dreams she has in which she takes responsibility for things that aren't hers to take. Her slight fingers try to wrap around something tangible, something she can touch and taste and enjoy the slight burn of as the liquid travels down her throat. It's then I can see that she's slipping.

"Alex," Before I know it I've broken every rule and I'm beside her on the couch, my hand resting on her knee as I urge her to hear me. "This isn't your fault."

Just for effect I think I'll say it again. "It's not your fault Alex …"

She looks up at me; pale blue orbits pooled with yet unshed tears. "Isn't it?"

Her voice waivers but she doesn't push me away, the walls stay down and if anything I realise she's been waiting for me to be this close to her ever since she threw the damn cup.

"I'm not good at this Liv." She whispers softly. "A teenage boy asked me why he can't forget the memories he has of the sometimes good, sometimes innocent times he enjoyed with his rapist." Her hand comes to rest on mine, like some admission of guilt. "In our last conversation I told him that Roy Barnett pretended to like him all those times so Sam would do what he wanted, talk about sticking the knife in …"

"Alex."

She wont let me finish. She knows I'd defend her against herself until all the breath ran out of my body but she wont allow it, doesn't want to hear it. She simply squeezes my hand beneath hers to let me know. And I respect that. I respect her.

It's the middle of the night and we're sat holding hands, drinking tea. It's not the first time either, I know I should urge her to go to bed and then leave, but a part of me doesn't want this to end.

Again.

_The first time it happened, this thing between us, she came to my apartment the night I shot Eric Plummer at point blank range as he held an unloaded gun to an innocent woman's head. _

_Those were her eloquent words she put out there as she stood in my kitchen and grumbled over my lack of non-caffeinated teas. _

_I think I only let her in that night because I was impressed by her tenacity. Elliot came, and went, Don called and left a fatherly message on my answerphone acknowledging my lack of responsibility to how I should feel but Cabot showed up and shouted that declaration through my door. I couldn't help be a touch impressed at her bravery. _

_She said we were more alike than I thought. She also admitted to thinking I hated her until I relented and opened my door. She stood in my kitchen fixing us out of date Jasmine tea and looking for cookies as she dragged up words of reassurance and I thought I heard her voice falter for a brief moment as she tried out my shortened name for the first time. _

"_Liv … look," _

_She handed me the tea and made a motion to suggest we take a seat on my couch, but of course I let her take the couch and took the chair opposite – in front of the window. _

"_I can't even begin to imagine how you felt, faced with the choice between Plummer – who you already know went down for a crime he didn't commit but has since murdered four more, and that innocent woman who did nothing wrong except mistakenly open her door. Liv …" _

_She looked imploringly at me again. _

"_Really … what choice did you __**really**__ have?"_

_And there it was. _

_In all the months we'd been whining and moaning about the intrusion into our lives of the new ADA, bitching about the silver spoon in her mouth and the big illuminated Trust Fund sign flashing above her head as if she were a character in a video game. I never once realised that over the course of that first year she'd come to understand me better than any of the men in that squad ever had. I didn't know if it was simply because she was also a woman, or because our famous fights became so heated I felt like she knew me more intimately than any recent lover. _

_I got up, because I was trying to avoid her moving from the couch and coming over to comfort me as she watched tears slip slowly down my face. Instead I paced along the floor behind her – asking the questions that became part of our little game of rhetoric. _

"_I put an innocent man in prison …" I whispered softly, coming to a standstill behind her. "Maybe not alone, but still, I had a hand in that and I also said things to him … and things happened to him whilst he was there and for that …"_

_I remember that she turned then, and stopped me with her hand upon mine, gently pulling me round to sit beside her on the couch. It felt dangerous, like uncharted waters in which we both might drown. _

"_Just because you said something you wouldn't say now, didn't give him the right to make you a target and use you as an excuse to hurt other people." _

_I remember her words just as clearly as I remember the softness of her hands as she held mine in the space between us. _

"_Everything we do changes us Liv, every case, every perp and every victim." She paused, her features graced with the most abject look of honesty I'd ever seen. "I think I'm finally starting to get that now." She admitted. _

_And I laughed. _

"_Alex Cabot, don't tell me the Special Victims Unit is actually starting to win you over?"_

A small part of me hoped that maybe _I_ was winning her over too.

And because it is an unspoken agreement that we have between us, I choose to use this moment to speak her words back to her, in the way that only I can.

"Alex, every case … remember?"

A single tear falls down her cheek, her eyes flooded with relief as she whispers the continuance, "Every perp, every victim …"

"Everything we do changes us." It's my turn to hold her hands in mine. "Alex." I urge her to look at me, dipping my head so I can hopefully catch her eyes, her gaze. I know I shouldn't do it, and I know it marks the most significant change in our relationship to date but I cant help the urge I have to lie to her now. "Maybe he'll be alright?" I whisper, our foreheads already so close they're almost touching. "Maybe if you just try and get some sleep everything will work out."

It's the first time I've ever not been straight with her. There's nothing about this case with Sam Cavanaugh that's going to 'work out'.

She falls exhausted against the back of the couch, her eyes searching mine for something else.

"You really think so?"

I nod. "I really hope so Alex, but whatever happens, I know you need to sleep."

"I know it's nearly morning, but will you stay?"

Her voice is small and still and I simply nod and watch as she gets up from the couch, pausing uncertainly in the door to the hallway that leads to the bedrooms and bathroom beyond. We have a ritual and it isn't this.

She doesn't want to be alone.

TBC

**Comments/reviews much appreciated :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimers – **As before!

**A/N – **Thanks for the reviews, I think they spur me to write faster!

**Apartment of Alexandra Cabot**

**Same night …**

I'm desperate to say to her, that I understand the need to not be on her own tonight, but the simple fact is we both started something and now we're too addicted to quit.

Ever since that first night she came to my apartment, after Plummer, she just kept showing up, daring to go where others wouldn't when in the past I'd retreat and lock the door. After a while I stopped hiding out in the crib just in case she chose the end of that particular case to drop in on me. Maybe because like tonight, part of me realised she needed my comfort and company as much as I needed hers.

It was sneaky, the way that she did it. She told me her fears and in return – I let her see mine.

_She sat beside me on the couch in my apartment and whispered, "Sometimes I feel like this job is going to eat me alive."_

_Her honesty rocked me._

"_And then sometimes I wonder if that's why I chose SVU in the first place … because it's the one job guaranteed not to leave you feeling lonely at night … even if it's not company in a good way." She chuckled, resentfully._

_I laughed, a choked, surreal noise coming from my throat. "I suppose I'll be having the pleasure of Plummer's face in 'my' dreams for a while."_

_We sat in silence so long after that, the next thing I knew she was kicking off her shoes and pulling me towards the bedroom, never once pausing to look back. We slept in our clothes on top of the bed and at some point in the middle of the night I heard her get up to fetch the blanket from the couch. It was the only time she let go of my hand. She lay the blanket back over us both and gave a soft sigh, before slipping her fingers back into mine and holding on tight. _

After that we stopped fighting so much.

The fight over me getting a warrant for Plummer had been the final nail in the coffin, or so she told me over coffee the following morning before we each went our separate ways, her to her apartment to change clothes and me to work. She said I needed to know she had believed me, even if there wasn't a thing she could have done about it.

I told her I believed her then, just like I believed her every time after that when she said we needed more evidence, that what we had was circumstantial, that a Jury would find reasonable doubt and so let them walk.

And bit-by-bit I learned to understand and speak her language, where I'd never really been bothered before.

So one time, after I'd accurately run down Elliot in the squad room when we were coming up cold on a rape-homicide and he asked why we simply couldn't just 'haul the guy's ass in', she laughed, and asked me if I wanted to get dinner, which of course I did.

Elliot rolled his eyes as we left together, debating Thai, Italian or Sushi. I think he felt me slipping away from him, towards Cabot, and into her world.

Occasional dinners soon turned into there being a movie on we both happened to want to see, even if it might take three weeks before we both finished work in time to catch a reasonable showing we both could make to see it.

I took her to a Knicks game, she took me to a Broadway show – and cried so quietly in the seat next to me I almost didn't notice. It was the only time I was asked to stay with her following what could only be described as a 'good' day.

And unlike tonight, she stepped silently out of her bedroom – holding up a set of extra sleepwear as she stood aside with a smile, offering me the bathroom to wash and change.

Yet tonight she hovers in the doorframe, nervously shuffling her feet, which are cold because she shattered bits of porcelain into her slippers. She kicked her sneakers off some time after we got back, and I never noticed until now how her toenails are painted cherry red.

"Liv?"

I'm trying to remember how this happened, she has a two bedroom apartment and yet any time she asks me to stay we sleep together on top of the covers in her guest bedroom – surrounded by case files and with window blinds that are just too short so in the morning the city greets me too harshly before I am ready.

She holds out her hand, like there'd ever be a possibility I might refuse.

I think it's because like the night she came to me, I came to her.

I'd just got through talking with Huang about my 'father' after the Darrell Guan case. All along I'd been hoping some rare, private moment would present itself where I'd have the opportunity to tell Cabot why my face kept betraying my inner turmoil in a way she couldn't understand.

Elliot tried getting me to talk about it, and I pushed him away. I resented his concern because he wasn't her and as I sat spilling my guts to Huang I realised I couldn't have the FBI Profiler, nice as he was, knowing more personal and private things about me than she did. She meant more to me than that.

So I wound up at her door, the first time for me uninvited.

_She opened the door and looked at me like she'd been waiting for my appearance since this whole case began to unravel. She stepped aside, and willingly I stepped in, knowing that in doing so I might come out the other side a different person._

"_Can I get you a drink?" _

_She appeared business-like, still dressed from court, only without her expensive shoes on. _

_She poured us both a glass of wine, Merlot I think, and took a long sip from her own glass, running her elegant fingers through tired strands of hair. _

"_This was a tough one." She stated, assuming I think, that she didn't know the half of it. "I can't believe Nelson tried to compare cystic fibrosis to a child inheriting a 'rape' gene from their father."_

"_Alex …" I tried to stop her before she went any further down a road she'd be clawing her way back out of in a few minutes, once I had the chance to say what I'd come to say. _

_She ploughed on still. _

"_Can you imagine if Guan had actually got off on that defence plea? The genetic defence that somehow we're none of us responsible for the badness within if it's put there by our parents?"_

_I'm not sure when she realised I was crying, but it stopped her anyway. _

"_Olivia?" Within seconds she was by my side, arms holding mine and gently guiding me to the couch, only she sat in the armchair first that time. "Liv …" She coaxed me softly, "Olivia, what's wrong, please … did something happen?"_

_Her beautiful face, so full of care and understanding, I never wanted anyone to care about me before her, not even Elliot. So I just told her, knowing that if I fell, she'd be there to catch me. _

_The words sound alien every time I say them. I think that's something which will never change. _

"_My father raped my mother …" I whispered softly, "and she had me … so I'm finding it a bit difficult to swallow the notion that the defence just argued, unsuccessfully, that being a rapist is somehow genetic."_

_I think I blinked and in that instant she was beside me on the couch, my face in her hands, blue eyes holding my gaze so intently I daren't look away. _

"_Olivia Benson." She spoke, and I'll never forget her words. "Don't you ever, ever try and convince me that I should believe there is anything wrong with you."_

_She never said anything more than that and I knew better than to argue with her. _

_She was nervous when she told me I'd drunk too much to drive and followed quickly by stating it was the wrong time of night to try and hail a cab in this part of the city. She had a perfectly comfortable guest room, and like all the other times after that she disappeared into her own bedroom to change before providing me with something suitable to wear and standing clear as I used the bathroom. Then she mumbled something about the window blinds in the guest room not closing properly and before I knew it I was laid on her guest bed watching her wrestle at the window, amused how the evidence of her job being her life was strewn about everywhere I looked. _

"_Sorry." She mumbled, finally giving up on the shutters in favour of clearing some case notes off the bed. "Sometimes I crash in here when I'm working late, I promised myself I wouldn't take files into the bedroom so instead I end up sleeping in here … defeats the purpose I guess." She carried on, answering her own judgement. _

_It did make me wonder though, whether I was really going to be sleeping in her 'actual' bed._

_She perched at the foot of the bed, looking timid. _

"_Perhaps you often sleep in here for the same reason I sleep in the crib?" I suggested._

_She shook her head and bit her bottom lip slowly, once again choosing to be the braver out of the two of us. _

"_I thought if I kept the case notes out of my bedroom then somehow I'd be able to keep the victims out of my dreams." She whispered honestly. _

"_It didn't work?"_

_Again she showed her answer through her eyes, glassy blue pearls peering back at me under the ethereal glow of the moonlight. _

"_Sometimes I feel like this job owns me …" She said softly, into nothing, her regular unburdening of guilt to me. "Sometimes I wonder why I stay, when I can see that at times it's doing nothing but bad things for me …" She paused, looking beyond me and through my gaze. "What is it, or rather __**who**__ is it, that has the power to keep me here?"_

_I realised then that she was talking about me. _

_My stomach gave a little knot, as in the darkness she admitted to me that she'd rather we both did our jobs, and have what we had, than for her to choose to take an easier path and risk giving up on me. _

_She climbed up the bed and lay down by my side, her body turned away from me – almost daring me to comfort her. So I did. I lay down beside her and held her and as I wrapped my arm around her body I felt a soft sigh leave her lips more than I heard it. _

I've never really had any female friends before Alex. I've spent far too long in a male dominated world to remember how to relate to them in any other way than how I do my job.

But Alex is no victim; she's headstrong, autonomous, courageous and forthright. I've watched her chew up many a perp on the stand, have their defence attorney for lunch and sometimes even the Judge for a light afternoon snack. I've watched her put her career on the chopping block a number of times before this, and seen her come up smelling of roses on the other side with barely a hair out of place.

I thought she knew, like I do, firmly where the line is and how to avoid crossing it. Until Sam Cavanaugh, when everything changed.

So once again she takes my hand and leads me down the hallway to her guest room-come-office. She spends a moment fiddling with the blind before I try, and then she mumbles something incoherent about having meant to get it fixed. We play this elegant dance of getting on the bed, she shuffles up beside me and I see how broken she looks with the cut to the right side of her forehead, no longer covered by a cute plaster for court. The simple mark a reminder of how much we both long to put Roy Barnett away.

She catches me looking and her fingers go up, tracing the bumpy outline. "Oh, that … Liv, it's nothing … I'm fine."

I know that, physically, but I still trace my thumb across the bruised flesh anyway.

"Go to sleep." I whisper, so she drops to the bed and turns immediately away from me so I can hold her.

As I slide my body in close behind hers I can feel the knots of tension as they leave her back and shoulders, she sighs again – silently and I cant help myself as I pull her close to me and savour a deep breath of the way her hair smells like lemons and her skin like vanilla.

Good enough to taste.

Within minutes I feel her body go heavy against mine and I feel sad, knowing that in the morning Alexandra Cabot, my ADA will be back.

Only this time things have been different, she's stayed lost longer than ever before, her eyes telling me everything her tired mind couldn't. Like some unspoken promise, she's made me see that she needs me this time 'before' the end, that perhaps she even needed me in the beginning?

Her heartbeat slows as sleep pulls her in, but not before the truth will out. "Liv …?" She mumbles, a sweet, shy voice in my ear.

"Uh huh?" I know she's really asleep, she does this sometimes.

"I love you Liv …"

No thunderbolts or lightening crash, it's not that kind of love in the way that she says it – it's the kind of love you have for a cat that curls into your lap every night in a resolute way and purrs all the evil out of the world, just for a short time.

I know she cant hear me, I know sleep took her the second those words left her lips but I still need her to know.

"I love you too Alex."

Like Romeo loved Juliet, like spring rain and children playing, cardboard boxes full of kittens and dogs licking ice-cream from the sidewalk on a hot summer's day. I love her like my breath leaves my body when I'm around her, my skin tingles in excitement and red hot pokers dance through my insides. I love her without question, without remorse and without reservation. I know I would happily give my life for her and at the same time that wonderful thought fills me with an equal measure of dread that I might one day be called to do so, that one day someone would set to harm her and I would lose her, and then I would be broken and my wounded heart might never recover.

Because I love her, and it makes me feel guilty for being here if that's not what she needs.

**TBC**

**Reviews would make my day !**


	3. Chapter 3

**Same disclaimers apply …**

**A/N **– I've got to say thanks for all the great reviews and messages! I'm trying to stay ahead of myself on this story and I'm averaging a chapter every couple of days so I'm promise I'm not stopping till it's fin! Reviews do spur me on though!

**Four days later …**

**Mulligans Bar, Manhattan**

"Did you invite her?"

I shake my head, there's something about Elliot's question that makes me think it wasn't the real question he wanted to ask.

He's talking about Alex. What he really wants to ask is why during this last case he's felt like I've been on her side more than I've been on his. I'm glad he didn't ask, I'm not sure what my answer would have been.

"She wouldn't have come tonight El and you know it."

He laughs. "Gone home to lick her wounds?"

I expect so. At least that's where she told me she was going when she called on her way out from her meeting with Donnelly. Her voice was scarily composed and completely faultless when she told me about her month long suspension, a complete turnaround from how fragile she seemed waking up in my arms – what was it, four days ago? After the night Sam Cavanaugh tried to kill himself.

"Liv?"

He's frowning, and I know he's been doing that a lot lately, like when he expected me to say something the other day when he and Cragen got down to it with Alex in the middle of the squad room, hurling insults and blame back and forth.

"What's going on with you?" He smirks, "I mention Alex's wounds and you've got that 'don't hurt my puppy' look on your face again, same as at the courthouse."

Munch and Fin left us after the last round, and ever since it's like he's been itching to have this out with me. We're back in the booth and both taking a long slow pull off our beers before he finally comes out with it.

"Ok Liv, I gotta ask …"

I say nothing. I'm pretty sure he's going to call me on this crush I have on Cabot, since it's more than any crush I've ever experienced before, I figure it must be obvious to anyone who looks at us.

"You took the call from Cabot yesterday, did she _tell you_ she had a warrant?"

I sigh, work related, a lucky escape again. "I don't remember El."

And the scary thing is, I don't.

Ever since we awoke in Alex's guest room the other morning to the sound of our cell phones ringing simultaneously, mine from Elliot and hers the Cap, I've had trouble concentrating – especially around her.

_I woke first, years of being in tune to the sound of Elliot's ringtone even in the deepest sleep. She was curled against my side; her fingers tightly wound into the material of my white shirt, moving restlessly just like the frowning muscles of her forehead. _

"_Alex."_

_On the one hand I wanted to wake her, to save her from whatever was going on behind those pretty lashes, on the other hand I couldn't promise anything she saw once she opened her eyes was going to be any better_

_She smiled ruefully, and then released the death grip she had on my chest, before whispering softly, "Tell me it was all a dream?"_

_I've never wanted to lie to someone more. Luckily she took my silence for an answer. _

"_Oh well, can't blame a girl for trying."_

_And just like that we both went back to work. _

"_**Cabot …**__"_

"_**Benson …**__"_

It's the last time we had the chance to be alone together. Even now I'm wondering why I'm here with Elliot, watching Mulligans' finest cop-clientele trade their stories, when I could be all the way up town knocking on Alex's apartment door in the hope that once that door closes behind us the woman who I saw there the other night might return.

That would be against the rules though.

Instead I've stood by and watched over the past few days as her walls came down again. First in the squad room after Barnett's Attorney filed his motion to dismiss, it would never normally be _me_ telling _her_ that a complaining witness who's banged up in Sing Sing on an assault charge for paedophilia is hardly the best to stand for the prosecution on this case but it's like she suddenly lost all sense of herself.

Petrovsky gave her three days, and whilst I could see she was back in her 'ADA' clothes courtesy of a great assistant and the returned dry cleaning she keeps in her office, when we drove out to Sing Sing to interview Benjamin Tucker her face still seemed desperate and she couldn't look at me.

She couldn't look at me then and she couldn't look at me after Elliot and I returned from seeing Linda Cavanaugh at the hospital. She hasn't really been able to look at me at all, seems all she's been able to do the last few days is yell.

"Liv, where's your head at?" Elliot asks, chinking his bottle against mine. "It's your round." He points out; clearly we're not done yet.

Up at the bar I can feel his eyes boring into the back of my head, and when I return 30 seconds later he's wearing a smug shit-eating grin.

"You look happy?"

He shrugs. "I worked it out."

That sets off panic inside me, which in turn leads to further silence and a distinct blush. I don't know why, I've nothing good to blush over – I really wish I did, I'd also like to know where my smart retorts have suddenly disappeared to!

"Worked out what El?"

"You and Cabot."

I just about manage to stop beer spurting out my nose. Maybe if I play along he'll drop this, maybe he's fishing, lets see?

"What _about_ me and Cabot?"

He leans in close. "A few months back … remember, that case you and Fin worked with the cop impostor?"

I nod, I don't know what he thinks he's got on us, Alex didn't even work that case since it went to IAB.

"Well …" God he looks so smug. "I was in court with Alex the day before, she said she had a dinner date, something fancy." He pauses, "Her eyes were all distant … like _that!_" He points to mine now. "Next day I ask her how the evening went she says it was a bust, over before it even started … the guy got called away …"

"She said it was a _guy_?" I couldn't help myself, the words flew out my mouth before I even got the chance to stop them.

If he thinks he's got me then his face doesn't betray it.

"Next thing I'm hearing from Warner that you turned up to the crime scene in an eye catching number, what were her exact words? … _Liv_ … _dress_ … and _sparkly_ come to mind." He grins, obviously deciding whether or not to cut me some slack. "And no, she never actually _said_ it was a guy."

I can't help the smile that slips from my lips. "So it's a crime now to accompany a co-worker to a benefit dinner?"

He slouches back into the booth, a little blown. "Cabot took _you_ to a benefit dinner?"

"Uh huh, fundraiser for a new refuge centre for women and children uptown." I'd feel guilty for how contrite he now looks if it weren't for how smug he'd seemed earlier.

That and the fact I know 'I' certainly read more into it than just a co-worker accompanying another co-worker to a 'thing' they had.

_She mentioned it to me over dinner a few weeks before. We'd been leaving the courthouse together with the subpoena for a witness who was in the wind. We put her and her son on a bus to Dallas a few weeks before in order to try and protect them, then when they got there she never checked back in. Somewhat defeated we ended up across town near my place eating tapas and drinking tequila. She's funny when she lets her hair down, and it was so spontaneous and a little defiant – the way she grabbed my arm as we walked down the courthouse steps, slipping her hands around the sleeve of my leather coat and effectively blurring the lines even further._

"_Fancy some food Liv? There's this fantastic little Spanish place I haven't been to in months, it's over by yours and I could really murder a Margarita."_

_I could never say no to her. Ever. _

_She was ordering a second round of drinks when her fingers slid across the tabletop and cautiously touched my arm, drawing my attention away from an amazing plate of Calamari. _

_She looked nervous, I remember because it was so uncharacteristic. _

"_What's up Alex?" I asked, since I needed a way to take my mind off the fact she was touching me. _

_She looked at her fingers, then slowly raised her eyes to look directly at me. "I have … this … thing …" She stated slowly, carefully accentuating each and every word. She made it sound like she maybe was dying or something._

_I guess I must have looked pretty concerned, "Alex, what is it?"_

_She laughed a bit, grateful for the reappearance of our waitress and more tequila. "It's a charity benefit, my uncle and two of my cousins sit on the board and so it's very much expected that I attend, and," She paused to draw a long intake of breath. "Since this year they're actually raising money for something worthwhile … I wondered … if you might agree to go with me? It's at The Plaza …" She added softly, pushing her fingers into my arm a little harder. "It should be a laugh …?"_

_I could think of __**nothing**__ I'd rather do, well, except maybe kiss her right there in the restaurant as she sipped her cocktail coquettishly through lips pursed into a sly smile. It's the first time she ever gave me any inclination there was something more to this 'friendship' of ours on her side as well as mine. _

"_Alex …" I grinned, subtly moving my arm so that my hand came to rest on top of hers. I squeezed it reassuringly softly. "There's nothing I would like more than to be your date to an overdressed charity function full of people who's housekeepers probably make more in their Christmas bonuses than I do in a month!"_

_She chuckled, and right there and then I decided I'd make it my life's work to make her laugh like that, it was such an adorable sound. _

"_Good." She grinned, snatching a ring of Calamari from my plate. "Because I was worried you'd think you'd be out of place."_

Elliot's staring at me like I have three heads, it's fair enough, the last time he tried to get me to attend some NYPD function I nearly blew his head off and those are 'my' people.

"Since when do you get willingly dressed up for a dog and pony show and hang out with those society sorts Liv?" He asks, a bit frustrated.

"Since Cabot asked me …"

"So she just asked you and you said yes, just like that, out of the blue?"

"Yes … well, no, not completely out of the blue …" I can't lie to him, unfortunately, I've never been very good at lying to him. If he thinks I do a good 'hurt puppy look' he should consider where I learnt it from. "There might have been a dinner or two." I admit. "And a Knicks game …"

"You took Cabot to a Knicks game." He pauses, open mouthed. "You're dating her!"

"I am not dating her El, we're friends, that's all."

"Yeah right." He's answering faster now, it's harder to keep up with him, tougher to not trip myself up. "People who look at each other the way you two look at each other cant just 'be' friends."

I'm not sure what he means by that, but maybe it'd help to find out.

"Huh?"

"That … that …" He searches for something, but the words aren't there. "That's why you've not been fighting with her lately!" He says suddenly, his lips curled at the sides. "You don't need to fight with her anymore because you're both getting your kicks in other ways?"

For a Catholic man I'm surprised.

"El, I'm not sleeping with her, I'm not even dating her …"

"But you'd like to be?"

And there it is, the one question I _can_ truthfully answer, so I nod.

He shrugs, two fingers in the air towards Johnny at the bar, signalling we'd need two more cold ones. "So … what're you gonna do about it?"

_I called her the day of the benefit to try and scope out what she thought I should wear. I'm not one for fancy dresses, I can do a nice black number for a date, but I got the distinct impression Alex's family and high society folks were more designer one-offs than my department store staples. _

_She seemed so keen to have me come, without feeling out of place, that she offered me free reign on her wardrobe. _

"_Look Liv, why don't you come to my apartment about six, I've an entire closet full of dresses that deserve to be worn, you can take your pick."_

"_Is that what you're wearing?" I asked, a hint of flirtation in there that I couldn't hide. _

_She laughed. "Now? … no, now I'm wearing a pants suit that's too tight and heeled shoes that are killing me! But tonight, yes, once I've dug out the obligatory pictures from the last three years benefits to ensure I'm not wearing one I've worn before – that's what I will be wearing."_

_I chuckled. "That's the price you pay for beauty Counselor." Meaning her painful shoes. _

_She laughed again. "I suppose it is."_

_I had it all worked out too; how I would be the perfect date that night, funny, entertaining, engaging. We dressed and got ready in her apartment over a couple of glasses of wine and she picked out the silver sequinned dress, not exactly my choice but something in her eyes told me she really wanted me to wear it. I'd made sure my evening was all hers, Fin and Munch were catching and with Elliot prepping for the case he and Alex were in court with the next day it was a sure thing to expect no interruptions. _

_Watching Alex work a room is a bit like watching magic happen, and for once I didn't feel completely out of my league – after all what's an SVU detective at a benefit raising money for abused women and children if not a match made for conversation. _

_And I like to think a little bit of her enjoyed watching me being fawned over, like she'd brought the most impressive prize and I belonged completely to her. It could have seemed possessive, if not for the fact she simply kept stating how much she was enjoying having me there. _

_Then dessert came and the Cap called and I was stood under the Washington Bridge in a silver sequined dress all thoughts of Alex, temporarily far, far away. _

"It's all Munch's fault." I mumble, having forgotten for a moment that Elliot was still with me.

"You what?"

I'd trust Elliot with my life, I suppose I might as well trust him with this. "He broke his ankle." I mumble, "If he hadn't then things might have been …"

Different? Better?

If I was already in Alex's life in the way that I'd like to be, would it have changed anything that's happened over the past few days?

I look across at him, suddenly there's somewhere else I'd much rather be. "I have to go Elliot."

He grins. "At a girl Liv …"

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	4. Chapter 4

**Previous disclaimers apply ...**

**A/N** – Thanks so much for all the reviews and messages they're totally keeping me going! This may be going the 'M' rated way next chapter or the one after.

Ok, spoilers for season 3 and what not, oh and yeah … keep the faith!

**Apartment of Alexandra Cabot, ADA**

**Later that same evening …**

'Knock' … 'knock' … 'knock'

Sometimes there are definite advantages to being a cop, that and the night doorman of Alex's building has always had a little bit of a soft spot for me.

I suppose now would be a good time to clarify the rules, since I'm about to break every single one of them.

_It started out as a bit of a joke, I think, following on from a little teasing at my expense after word got round that I showed up to a crime scene in a silver sequined dress. I think the words 'Benson had a hot date' rumbled through the courthouse grapevine and landed on Alex's desk right before I arrived one afternoon to prep for trial. _

"_So?" her eyes sparkled with devious delight. "I hear I'm six feet tall with dashingly good looks and astonishingly blue eyes?"_

_I think I sighed, because she was right about one bit._

_I hadn't seen her to speak with privately since I ran out on her that night to go and meet Fin, still that didn't stop her sending me chocolates and flowers by way of 'thanks' – actions she then admitted she did to stoke more fuel onto the fire!_

"_Alex!" I reprehended. _

"_What?" She used her hands to push away from her desk and gestured that I take a seat on the couch. "I thought it would be funny, wasn't it?"_

_I shrugged, I wasn't mad at her, just starting to get confused. _

"_I'm sorry Liv," She handed me some water, and we both screwed the tops off before taking long, cooling drinks. "For the record I had a really great time, and you …" She added, with that same wicked grin, "were a big hit!"_

_I sat hunched forwards, my elbows on my knees – comforted by my 'cop' stance. I took a deep breath before deciding I might as well just come out and say it. _

"_Alex … I think we need some rules."_

'Knock' … 'knock' … 'knock'

I'm beginning to regret this dynamic gesture, I don't know if it's because it feels like I'm either too late, or too early in my coming here. This grey area we've wandered into scares me shitless, and with our professional contact out of the picture now for at least a month because of her suspension, I've suddenly realised I can't imagine going that length of time and not seeing her.

Who am I kidding? A _month, _I can't even go a day without wondering why she hasn't been by the precinct to see me, or called me over to her office on some lame excuse. It got so bad the last few months I started dreaming up excuses to stop by her apartment after work or at the weekend, basically any time I didn't happen to be working.

_Two weeks after the charity benefit, we sat together in her apartment. I'd dropped by in the afternoon to return her dress after picking it up from the cleaners and on impulse we decided to get a late lunch. Lunch turned into a trip by the video store and a bottle of wine and all of a sudden she leapt up from the couch and disappeared into one of the bedrooms, returning with a tattered, yellow legal pad. _

"_You said we needed rules." She stated, matter of fact. "Alright then, lets have some rules."_

_I chuckled and got up from the couch, hoping to pour us both more wine. I'd helped myself to another bottle from her stash and had it opened and in the glasses before I even considered that I should have asked her before doing so. _

"_I just think we need a couple of rules Alex, that's all … kinda like 'no sending fake romantic gestures to each others work-places' sort of rules."_

_She chewed the end of her pencil adorably. "Ok, rule one – Alex isn't allowed to send chocolates or flowers to Olivia at work."_

_I laughed. "I think it would be okay if the rules were a bit more general than that!"_

_She nodded. "Fine, can I still send donuts though?"_

"_Those are for the whole squad, besides – I think Munch might cry if you stopped doing it." I joined her back on the couch. "I was thinking more like we just need to keep some of our 'outside of work stuff' away from our 'inside of work stuff' and vice versa."_

"_Okay …" She paused to inhale and sip some of her wine. "Rule One – there are three Olivia and Alex's; The SVU Detective and the Assistant District Attorney who work together, the Alex and Olivia who are friends …" She paused to raise her glass to me, indicating where we stood right then, "And the Liv and Alex who have each other's backs when times get hard."_

_The softness in her voice when she described the third 'us', the most important 'us', set off a warm liquid feeling in my chest that wasn't completely down to the wine. _

_She clapped her hands together excitedly, immediately setting down her wine. "Fights!"_

_I shrugged. "I can't wait to hear?"_

"_Rule two …" She ploughed on. "Work Alex and work Olivia may fight, those fights mustn't extend beyond the precinct, courthouse or my office – with the rare and occasional exception of Mulligans."_

"_What about if we need to fight about something that's not work related though?" I asked, unable to think of a specific example but the constant pushing for her to go with me to a Baseball game was bound to give rise to the occasion sooner or later._

_She frowned. "Such as …"_

"_I don't know Alex! Friends fight sometimes, you know – not everyone likes to do the same things all the time?"_

_She laughed, her lawyerly stance firmly back in place. "Amendment A to rule number two – Olivia and Alex who are friends outside of work may fight about non work-related issues if either one feels strongly enough about it, for example - should one half suggest going to a Mets game," She narrowed her eyes, before lighting up again, "Or the Ballet?"_

"_These rules have sub-sections now?" I asked, incredulously. Suddenly struck with an image of Alex Cabot as a child making lists._

"_All the best ones do."_

"_What about the other Liv and Alex?" I asked softly. "Do they fight?"_

"_No." She answered definitively. "Amendment B to rule number two – Liv and Alex who have each other's backs __**never**__ fight, fighting during such times is __**not**__ allowed."_

_Suddenly the certainty in her voice made me feel exposed and vulnerable. "Then we should have some kind of rule that says stuff said during the having each other's backs times doesn't get pulled out at any other time, y'know, kind of like a weakness or something …"_

_She looked a little sad that I felt the need to clarify that. "Very articulate Liv."_

_I stuck my tongue out at her. "You're the lawyer."_

"_Fine. In accordance with Amendment B of rule two; Rule Three states that any of the following: talking about feelings not related to the current situation, arguing with the person in need as to whether they are right or wrong and using past experience drawn from either 'work' Olivia and Alex or 'friends' Olivia and Alex is not permitted during times when either Liv or Alex have each other's backs."_

"_Unless it's … y'know, really necessary." I quipped._

_She threw the legal pad at my head. "Liv! You were the one who wanted rules!" She scurried for the pad again and picked up her pencil, scribbling furiously in my face so I could read._

'_Rule four – the lines are __clearly__ marked, they should __never__ be crossed'_

_I laughed, and took the pencil from her. _

'_Amendment A to rule four – the lines can be crossed, if they have to be.'_

So here I am, stood outside the front door to her apartment, ready to invoke my rights to Amendment A of Rule Number Four – after all, I had my lawyer present.

If only she was in.

"Liv?"

I turn around to the sound of heels coming down the coridoor.

"Alex."

I'm almost relieved, I don't know why, exactly, but it made me anxious when I got to her apartment and she wasn't there. I wonder just how scared I really am for her? She looks tired, and unusually dishevelled, like wind, rain and the general grime of New York City have ganged up on her all at once.

She still looks beautiful though.

"Where were you?" I ask.

She frowns as she finally reaches me, looping one arm around my side to unlock the door. As she invades my personal space I can see that just like in the courthouse, she still can't make eye contact.

"I could ask you the same thing, _Detective_."

'Detective', not Olivia, or Liv, but _Detective_.

"You went to my apartment?"

"Yes." She pushes past me to walk inside. "But you weren't there, so then I went to Mulligans and Elliot said I just missed you." She sighs as she drops her bag and coat over the back of a chair around the kitchen island. "I should have figured you'd be out _celebrating_."

Her words sting they're so acerbic. "We weren't celebrating Alex, just blowing off some steam, this has been one hell of a case."

They say you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink. Well it also turns out that you can lead Alex Cabot a hundred different ways into a conversation but it still doesn't mean she'll talk.

The air inside the kitchen is electric, and not in a good way. It's so charged inside her apartment that I feel like a magnet stranded in a room full of rogue iron filings, pretty soon I'm gonna be covered in this shit.

"So, you wanna tell me more about what happened with Donnelly?" I ask, thinking perhaps a bit of innocent chitchat will help to calm her down. "Did she rap you on your knuckles and tell you you've been a bad …"

"Liv …"

" … girl?"

Heaven knows what I'm trying to do, something about the nervous tension building inside me makes me want to crack inappropriate jokes and seemingly bait Alex even further.

"Fuck you Liv. This is my career we're talking about."

I suppose I deserved that.

"Alex …" I approach cautiously, hoping if nothing else that she'll see from the soft look I'm giving her that I 'really' do care about what happens to her. "Alex." I gently lay a hand on her arm, with all the grace of a lion tamer and none of the charm. "Alex, please, could we maybe just have some wine and sit down and talk?"

She nods, teetering on the brink of tears. It's a start.

The last time we were here together in her apartment there was something so fragile in her stance I remember thinking I'd never look at her the same way in court ever again.

But a lot of things happened over the last few days; nothing that can't be fixed and nothing that the rest of us haven't done before but this is Alex we're talking about not some passionate detective with a point to prove or an axe to grind.

I know Elliot said she betrayed us with the search warrant, but she needs to understand it's not the garnering of an illegal search that he minds, it's the fact she felt the need to shoulder it all on her own and not tell us about it.

Suddenly, we're not a duo anymore, we're three, and before I know it I'm laughing to myself because Alex is the 'good one' in this story who just passed the first test at getting 'in' with the delinquent rebels.

"It's all I've got." She says, handing me a glass of something Californian and red. "I finished the last of the good stuff when I got home."

"Arthur?" I ask, hoping that after her meeting with Liz she didn't then have to endure being reamed by Branch as well.

She shakes her head. "Just Donnelly."

I can't stop myself from asking, it's the proximity, and the fact she's sat beside me on her couch, turned slightly against me – our knees just barely touching.

"Alex, what happened?" I ask. "This case … it's not like you?"

To be passionate.

To be headstrong.

To let your heart rule your head.

There's a softness in her eyes I've only seen when she's been the one giving comfort to me.

"Liv, how many people would you say you help, in a year?"

It's a bit left field, but okay, I'll bite. "I don't know Alex, a lot, why are you asking?"

She shrugs. "Do you remember all their names?"

I pause, and inhale sharply – recalling something Elliot once said to me when he caught me making a follow up phone call thirteen months later to a fourteen year old girl.

"_Liv …" He said, as if he'd known the second I had a minute to myself that's exactly what I'd be doing. "If you keep calling her then how can she move on?"_

"_I'm just checking in on her El," I lied, pretty sure she'd be just as fine as when I called six weeks before. "Her life turned completely upside down, she found out her grandfather was also her father then helped us put him away for the next 25 years."_

_He stared at me, and quietly placed his finger down to hang up the receiver before anyone had chance to pick up. _

"_I know." He whispered. "And I know this last case got to you, but you have to let it go, you have to let her move on with her life."_

"_What if she just needs someone to talk to?" I mumbled, betraying my own need for comfort, not the girl's. It came off the back of a similar case, only this time we lost and the kids weren't so lucky – the father took out his entire family to keep the sick truth from getting out. _

_So I put down the phone. "I know I've got no right to call her." I admitted. "It's just … sometimes the bad ones make me want to check in with the good ones, y'know?"_

_He nodded. "I know. My kids wonder why there's some cases where I just can't look at them for a while, and some after which I can't let them out of my sight."_

"_At least they're there every night when you go home."_

"_Damn right."_

Now, whenever I have the urge to get too involved with a victim, or too close, I think of Elliot and how he distances himself because he doesn't want 'their' hurt to affect 'his' family.

Well I don't want Sam Cavanaugh's hurt to affect 'my' family, and right now – that includes Alex.

I stopped deliberately remembering their many names after that night, but I also can't lie to her, there are some names you _never_ forget.

"Not all of them." I say, softly taking one of her hands. "But some of them."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to forget him." She whispers. "The look on his face the night he left my office, or the look his mother gave me that night at the hospital and the way she was when I went to her home and betrayed her, again and again."

"You didn't betray her Alex." Her eyes are filling with tears but she looks away. "You did what you had to do to get justice for her son."

"Some justice." She forces out – deadpan through choked back tears. "Tell me Liv, if he was _your_ son, would you rather he was molested, or became a vegetable … if you _had_ to choose?"

"Alex."

I know she knows she's not being fair, and I already know that I'll lose this round. I can see it in her eyes, the way her pupils dilate out of fear and her breathing ratchets up a notch. She's spoiling for a fight like she was the other day at the precinct, and we're about to see how far she thinks she can push me.

"Can't make the decision Liv?" She baits me. "Fine, get a lawyer. They'll go ahead and make it for you."

"Alex …"

I'm putting off rising to the challenge of entering this debate with her. Whilst it remains a self-pitying diatribe of a monologue we'll be fine. Once my side weighs in, we're screwed.

Her eyes flare with fury, because I wont give her the fight she wants to validate how much she despises herself right now.

"Even if you 'do' make a decision, if it's not the one I want to hear – expect to be making a new one."

"You didn't put the pills in his hand Alex." I try. "And you certainly aren't responsible for Roy Barnett raping him."

"Even if I _want_ to take responsibility?" She whines. It feels like the start of our descent into a bad place. "The great SVU detectives get to feel the weight of their responsibility all the time, you all share it, you even wallow in it from time to time … Elliot makes a few more dents in some dry wall, you crack out the self-destruct button and wait for Cragen to come bail you out from under IAB and the _one time_, the _one time_ I do anything even remotely stupid people act like I didn't have it in me and like I did myself some great injustice." She stops for a second, seemingly lost in her own tirade. "Nobody gives a damn about the kid …" She mumbles. "What about his injustice, why isn't anyone blaming me?"

My heart aches for the sadness in her voice, and for a second I forget just how angry she still is.

"Because, Alex, sweetheart, it's **not your fault**."

Seconds later I find myself stood outside her building in the rain, cool droplets of water running down my face as blood pulsates angrily through my temples. I left my jacket indoors so the temperature outside slows my heart rate, as I re-play the words she just said to me, over and over inside my head.

"_Just like 'you' never gave your Mom that last drink she had before tumbling down the stairs, doesn't stop you thinking every day that it's your fault though – does it Liv?"_

She's lucky I happen to love her; I've hurt people for a lot less.

TBC

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	5. Chapter 5

**Same disclaimers apply, I don't own anything, sadly!**

**A/N** – Apologies, apologies that it's taken me so long to post! We lost one of our kittens so my time went to making fliers and distributing them, or course the little critter has returned now – seemingly unhurt! But it's a relief and so now I can finally post the next chapter. Still not in the 'M' rating zone yet, next chapter though … yeah … I actually re read what I've been writing and blushed I think I might have to tone it down turns out the Liv I'm writing has the potential for s seriously dirty mind. Anyway, enough of my ramblings – here's the post. Please review if you're enjoying this I'd love to hear and the reviews keep me going!

**The sidewalk outside 235 West 78****th**** Street.**

**Minutes later …**

Breathe Benson, just breathe.

I'm trying to remember the precise reason why I allowed her into my apartment that first night, all those months ago? Despite knowing that by doing so I was acting dangerously out of character and also allowing her into my heart.

I think it's because I knew then, no matter how hard I pushed, how cruel my words, how raw my anger, she'd still keep coming back.

Her words sting, but not because I think she meant them. I've done worse things and said worse things in trying to push people away. I think I underestimated her though; the courtroom persona and the fixed icy stare led me to believe, falsely perhaps, that underneath it all a softer side was just begging to be unwrapped.

Either that, or I was right all along and she's upstairs in her apartment right this moment wishing she could do _anything_ to stop her heart from breaking too.

"Liv?"

I think I felt her before I heard her, the revolving doors swish round and now I know she's stood there watching me, on the street outside her building getting pelted with rain.

"Liv …?"

Her voice is soft again, like a nursery rhyme, lilting and gentle and with as many different intonations as a classical symphony. My overactive mind is suddenly bombarded with images of wanting to accompany her to Carnegie Hall or the New York City Ballet, even though it's the last place I'd ever go. Just to hear the sound of her humming softly to the music without realising she's doing so. I want autumnal walks in the park and lazy afternoons in front of an open fire after getting caught in the rain. I want the mundane and the ordinary, as well as the verbose and extreme, as long as it's with her – I want it all.

I don't want her to think this finished us.

"Liv … please?" She still hasn't moved from the entryway. "You're getting soaked."

I turn, and see she's changed her clothes since I came out here, losing the charcoal grey suit and wrinkled shirt from her day in favour of a tight pair of skinny blue jeans and a simple baby-blue tank. She's shivering.

"Alex, go back inside, I'll come up in a minute."

Even through the sheet of rain I can see her eyes are red from crying, she doesn't _need_ to say how sorry she is, but she does anyway.

"Liv … what I said … you've got to know … I'm _so_ sorry." She whispers, her voice heavy in her chest.

We're still a few feet away from each other, unsure.

"I know." And I do, all of a sudden she's not hiding anything anymore. "Alex, you're freezing. Go back inside and I'll be up in a minute, I promise."

I'm not sure if she believes me? It wouldn't be the first time I've made promises I couldn't keep. This time it's different though, this time it's Alex – and the only promise worth making is the one where I swear to myself I _wont _run away.

She looks up, and in that second I see an element of fear, mixed in with certainty and belief. She squares her head to look directly at me.

"You asked me what happened Liv, with this case?"

I nod. She takes a second to control herself and I continue my assurances, I did ask, I want to know what changed her?

"You happened." She exhales quietly, "_you_, Liv."

_The day of my mother's funeral, the squad were midway through working a case that was starting to piss everyone off – since it turned out in the end that the 17 year old rape victim was actually the 23 year old mastermind behind the entire scam. I was on my way back to the Cap's office after completing my daughterly duties when Alex and I ran into each other, and I mean literally. _

"_Ooomph!"_

_We collided head-on, and on instinct I took hold of her upper arms and turned us both around, swallowing up some of our combined momentum. _

"_Olivia!"_

_She sounded startled, and breathless, and a little unsure of herself, she'd not been assigned to the team for more than a few months and she rarely referred to us as anything other than 'Detective' or our surnames. _

_I smiled back at her, I remember because it felt like the dark day suddenly grew brighter. _

"_You look … er … nice." She mumbled, referring to my functional black dress. _

_My hands seemed stuck to her arms, despite it being several seconds since our collision. Our composure sufficiently regained, I moved us both to the side of the coridoor and out of the path of oncoming traffic. _

"_I … er, I … um … I just came back from my mother's funeral." I admitted, unsure why it was easier to say it to her, a virtual stranger, than speak with most of the people who'd been there. _

_Something happened then, and whether she stepped closer or I stepped away, I can't remember. I only know it was her hands on my arms, instead of mine on hers, rubbing soft, soothing circles as she stared intently down at me. _

"_God, Olivia, I'm so sorry."_

_A long, comfortable silence followed, during which I noticed – for the first time – that she wasn't really that much taller than me. _

"_I … er … I'm just on my way to thank the Captain for the flowers." I mumbled, as if by way of explanation as to why I – as the heartless daughter – returned to work on the day of my mother's funeral. _

_She nodded. "If you don't mind, I'd like to send something as well?"_

_I frowned, for one - she'd never met my mother and the funeral was already done. "Alex, you don't need to do that …"_

_She held my arms tighter. "I know, but I'd like to."_

"_I …" I began to protest further, but she cut me off. I noticed then that her eyes betrayed her, the rest of the package carried an air of an 'up her own ass politician' but her eyes told a different story. _

"_Olivia, my father died a few years ago," She said. "Quite suddenly, now I'm not suggesting I know what you're going through." She added gently, "but I am thinking of you …"_

_That night, after a trip round several of my neighbourhood bars and a wise decision to return to my apartment, alone, I came upon a hand-delivered parcel outside my front door and approached it with the necessary amount of caution. _

_Inside the box were a tub of lavender bath salts, an English poetry book, a Chopin CD and a bottle of scotch, with a parcel label tied around its neck that read, simply, 'Thinking of you. I said I would send something.'_

_I hadn't realised she meant 'to me'. _

_I ran a bath, and put in the salts. I put the CD in the hi-fi and let the sound filter softly through my apartment. I poured myself a generous measure of fine scotch before getting in the bath with the book. I started reading 'Remember' by Christina Rossetti, heard my mother's voice resonating inside my head and began to cry real tears for the first time since it happened. _

I turn away from the rain and head back into the building. If nothing else, I'll always be grateful to Alex for giving me the means to cry when my own grief felt too far away.

You could laugh, I suppose, at the sight of the drowned detective squelching all the way from the elevator, leaving damp footprints in my wake and a discernable puddle on the expensive wooden flooring in the entrance hall of Alex's apartment.

She doesn't laugh, her face is stoic and fixed but all of a sudden laughter is the only thing I can manage to cut through the silence of our current predicament.

In fact I'm laughing so hard she might think I'm crazy, my tears mixing with rainwater as it drips down from my hair.

"Liv, you're gonna catch pneumonia or something." She mumbles, only she stays by my side and doesn't move, too afraid that if she leaves me alone by the door I might bolt again.

I tone it down to a mild chuckle, since I really am quite cold and cant afford to waste the heat from all this extra movement giggles cause.

"Alex, do you think, maybe, you have a towel, or something?"

She nods, returning seconds later to hand me a fluffy grey towel and a change of clothes.

"You're laughing Liv." She notes, "Is that a good sign … I don't know?" Suddenly she's rambling, "I mean, you're here, which is good, but outside, the rain … Liv …?" She seems to settle on what she knows for sure. "You're gonna go and catch something awful … " She berates me. "What's so bad about actually looking after _yourself_ for a change?"

I want to say that I've forgotten _how_ to look after myself, since lately she's been doing it for me. Instead I say nothing, mute as she takes the towel from my hands and begins to rub it through my hair.

I sigh. Nothing ever felt so good.

She positions herself in front of me, and I can't help it – my eyes close of their own volition as she softly rubs the towel through my short hair. She takes a little step back, and with extra care she pauses to clear the dampness of rain from my forehead before she relaxes a little and lets her fingers massage deeper into my scalp. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and for a split second her eyes catch mine and then she backs away, leaving the towel around my shoulders implying I just went several rounds in a boxing ring.

"Alex …"

It came out like a whisper, meant to say so many things.

"I'll make you some tea." She offers. "You can use my bedroom to get dried off."

I decide to wait until I hear the whistle of the kettle on the stove before returning to the living room, dressed in a pair of Alex's black sweats and an NYPD polo shirt I left here one Saturday morning after we went out running. Alex had this wonderful idea she was going to train for the New York City Marathon and I promised I'd help, but it soon wore off when we realised it was much more fun to run our modest route round the park then head to a café on Columbus for a spot of brunch.

I've never actually spent that much time in her bedroom, so it feels surprisingly voyeuristic when my eyes land on a simple framed photograph of Alex, and who I can only assume to be her parents, at her graduation from Law School. It's frightening how gorgeous she looks, eyes wide with awe and admiration and a look of unadulterated ambition that still makes me a little bit scared for her.

I know that look, I majored in it.

"I left my wet stuff in your bathroom." I note. "I hope you don't mind?"

She turns around to face me and smiles. "Of course not Liv."

In her hands are two mugs of what I know will be her latest favourite – jasmine green tea. She hands one over and then gestures towards the couch, taking a seat in the middle as if to leave the choice up to me whether I sit beside her or keep my distance.

Trying to keep my distance from her hasn't exactly worked so well up to now.

She sits tense, and hunched forwards, elbows on her knees with the mug in her hands as she stares down into it. I expect her to look at me when I sit beside her, but all she does is let out a slow steady breath of relief.

With the protection of her back facing me, she starts to speak. "I meant what I said Liv, you've changed everything, you've changed me."

I can see every tight muscle in her neck and shoulders, flex and ripple. Her blonde hair's swept into a messy ponytail, exposing milky white skin leading to that irresistible place I long to run my fingers through.

"Donnelly thinks I did it to make myself feel better." She mumbles, and I'm not sure if she wants me to talk back or simply listen.

"Did you?"

"No." She shakes her head. "I did it because I knew it's what you would do, if you could."

I never asked her to take a month's suspension for me, actually, I never asked her to do any of this.

But she _is_ right, it _is_ what I might have done, if I'd been in her position and could have pulled it off. She was cunning and clever throughout, and even though she looked like she never slept or ate these last few days, she worked it out to the very last detail, making absolutely sure the only person she hung out to dry was herself.

"You know, even if you told us the truth, Elliot and I would still have gone ahead with the search …?"

She smiles, even with her back to me I can see it in the way her posture changes and her shoulders relax.

"I know, promise me you _won't_ say that to internal affairs when they quiz you about this next week though!"

I laugh. "I promise."

She inhales deeply, and puts her mug down on the coffee table, folding her hands together in a mark of anguish, or maybe fear?

"Liv, promise me something else?"

Despite hearing her words I simply stare at the back of her frame, the way the tight tank she's wearing outlines every structure, line and curve. I can't exactly remember when I first noticed that she's extraordinarily beautiful; perhaps it's something I've always known – along with the knowledge that she manages to make me feel happy, simply by being in my thoughts. All of a sudden I stopped being interested in anyone else, gender aside, leaving me with months of never ending sleepless nights through which to question whether I was gay, bisexual or simply in love with Alex.

And now.

We're here, side by side on her couch, brought together by our common misadventures and in an unlikely unfolding of events it transpires that whilst _I've_ spent the last couple of years trying to mould myself into something more like someone Alex could accept. I failed to notice that whilst I was off busy doing so, she went and became more like me instead.

I place one hand softly on her shoulder, marvelling at the sensation of her bare skin beneath my fingertips as my breath hovers over wispy blonde curls at the nape of her neck.

"Anything." I would truthfully pledge her anything.

"Promise me you'll stay here?" She whispers, "Tonight … in my bed …"

I smile, and lay a gentle, delicate kiss upon the well-defined outline of the muscles between her neck and shoulder, resisting the urge to bite down hard and leave my mark.

She whimpers, and it's the most delicious sound I ever heard. My arms slip around her waist and I realise I've left her hanging without an answer as I pull her in to lean against me.

"Liv?"

Her hands slip over mine.

"Liv?"

I start kissing her neck, nibbling at the skin as she leans to one side, revealing more of herself to me.

I love the way she's different here, wrapped in my arms and within the walls of this apartment. She's not the Alex Cabot that the criminals of New York see; she's the Alex that only I see, and this past week when everything collapsed in on her she let the two sides mingle for a while.

"Alex …"

I nuzzle my face against her neck and inhale deeply, daring to dart out my tongue for a quick, exotic taste. Unable to tell which of us moans first, me or her?

"Seriously …" I tease. "You really have to ask?"

**TBC**

**Review pretty please …**


	6. Chapter 6

**Same disclaimers apply!**

**A/N: **Firstly, thanks so much for all the reviews I'm glad everyone is enjoying the slow burn and I'm sure you'll all be equally glad that the slow burn has finally ignited!

Rated M from now on, Mature readers only please.

Sorry it's taken a while between this and the last post, I had written this one backwards (in Liv's mind) but I dunno, the more I read it the more I felt like it just didn't work so I've re-jigged the next two chapters, hopefully you'll like it!

R&R please.

**Apartment of Alexandra Cabot.**

**Same night …**

I think I blacked out for a second, because all of a sudden she's straddling my lap, her slim fingers pushing against my chest beneath my collar bone, as she forces me back against the couch.

It took maybe thirty seconds, a few minutes, or possibly several hours for us to get here? I don't recall.

I simply can't remember. The feel of her lips against mine, her teeth raking over my bottom lip as her body starts to roll against me, it's too much, more than a few brain cells just exploded.

There it is, Alex Cabot – _bad for your health._

"Alex … Alex …"

If I don't stop her now, I won't. We'll be naked and spent on her couch and the question of 'why' we're suddenly doing this, is it because it's what we both want or because she's scared and alone? With me being a safe form of comfort, will never be answered. I could pretend not to care, and believe me a very big part of me couldn't care less, if she wants me tonight and never again I think I'd still agree and go along with it. Trouble is, I couldn't bear to lose her because of the awkwardness of a one-night stand, as it is the thought of having to release her from my embrace in order to have this conversation makes me tremble with breathless fear.

"Alex?"

She stops, and lets go of my bottom lip from between her teeth, halting, hot breath against my cheek as she struggles over what to say next.

"What Liv?"

I bring my right hand up to her chin, urging her to turn her head and look at me. At first she's reluctant, looking anywhere but my face, her gaze silently hovering at my lips as she sighs deeply, before biting the bullet and looking me straight in the eyes.

"Not like this." I whisper, hoping to convey enough care and love for her through those simple words to keep her from running away from me. "I want you Alex, believe me, _so bad_, but not like this."

She sighs, and backs away from me slightly, her hands still against my chest. She traces each index finger along the length of my collarbones, from the middle towards my shoulders, following the steady motion with her eyes.

The action opens my shirt a little further, giving her access to a greater expanse of skin.

With the exact same purpose she takes with her into the courtroom, she undoes the two buttons at the neck of my shirt, pushing the material aside to reveal the barest hint of cleavage. I know that's what she's going for but I can't look, I can't take my eyes off her incredulous expression.

I'll always wonder – why now? What was it about this case, this moment, this evening with the two of us each silently remembering every evening we've spent together before now, that made a close friendship turn into something more? I want to ask her, fighting the urge to over think things and stop her advances yet again.

Instead all I do is gasp, as her head sinks and she places a soft kiss over the swell of my right breast.

"I don't wanna talk Liv." She whispers, words interspersed with further kisses. "I'm done talking." Her nose rests in the valley between my breasts and I feel her inhale, deeply, her hot breath as it comes back out sends shivers down my spine all the way to my legs – which tingle and feel like jelly.

My arms relax of their own accord, reaching around to grab her tight ass through the material of her jeans. She groans, and continues her exploration of my chest.

"Besides …"

I try and remember what she was saying before the kisses started.

"If you have to ask me what I'm doing Liv … then I'm clearly not doing it right."

With that she pulls back up to face me, her ass grinding in circles against my lap and in my hands, so perfect I can't fight the urge to pull her closer against me. Hoping to relieve some of the incredible tension building up between my inner thighs. She lifts her arms and wraps them loosely around the back of my neck, seeming to consider whether it's safe to try kissing me again.

"I just …"

I start, but I can't remember. I had wanted to say that I just need her to be sure, because I'm scared that she already has my heart and if this is just going to be a one-time thing then I honestly don't think I could recover.

I want to say everything, and nothing. I need her to know about all the times I longed to kiss her when we fought, longed to hold her when she let me see her be fragile, and longed to make her mine with a ferocity I was sure neither of us could ever handle when she gave me that _look_ that made my insides melt and my eyes glaze over, betraying a myriad of dirty thoughts.

Instead I find I have no words, no argument, and no closing statement.

"Hmnph …"

My mouth releases this sound when she kisses me, every fibre of my being twists and writhes and melts beneath that simple, heated touch. She pulls away again, looking deep behind my eyes for some indication that I'm going to chastise her, or worse. Finding nothing but lust and fire she grins, exalted in her ability to turn me into a quivering mess with one simple kiss on the lips.

She catches my gaze as my eyes disappear behind hooded lids. "Again?"

I nod.

Her lips envelope me, her tongue like velvet, softly exploring every inch and every crevice, until I realise she's completely cast her spell on me and I try to fight back, pushing forwards to gain more access to her mouth.

She laughs and pulls away again. "I was wondering when you were going to try and take control."

I think it terrifies me how well she knows me. Every sexual encounter I've ever had, male or female, has lacked that connection of the other person knowing how to read me and knowing what makes me tick. It's an intense, vulnerable feeling.

Her breathing's heavy, her cheeks flushed and her throat and chest a ruby pink. I can feel her trembling with need and the idea of lifting her possessively – her thighs wrapped around my waist as I carry her to her bedroom and throw her down on the bed – patters interestingly across my thoughts.

She has other ideas though, she wants it achingly slow and painfully drawn out and once more, I'm shaken by how accurately she knows what I need.

I let go of her ass, and move my fingers to the bottom of her shirt, acutely aware of how she's got nothing on underneath, the skin tight material of her tank taut across her nipples. She backs away from me, arms raised silently above her head by way of consent. I shuffle uncomfortably beneath her, willing the ache between my legs to dissipate long enough to concentrate on her naked breasts, bobbing right there in front of me.

She sighs, her eyes closed and her hips rolling again, gentler now. She picks up my hands and puts them against her chest, encouraging me to knead softly, my thumbs brushing her sensitive nipples into sore, swollen peaks.

"Oh … _yes_ …"

I think I've died, this being neither heaven nor hell just the place I know I deserved to end up, I've wanted it for long enough.

"More …" She pleads, silently.

I bring my mouth to her left breast, kissing and biting softly along the underside. She lets go of my hands and slides her fingers into my hair, pushing me harder against her. I take her nipple into my mouth and let my tongue slide against it, over the tip and around in languished circles as her hips buck wilder and her fingers start to tug at the base of my skull, caught between wanting more – and needing less.

When I'm sure she's taken as much as she can, I replace my mouth with my hand and move across to the right, showing it the same degree of affections. She trembles when I rake my teeth over her worried nipple, and out of instinct I slide my palm against the small of her back, preventing her from pulling away from me.

She tugs me upwards, urgently, and I feel more than hear it as she moans into my mouth, her skin prickled with a heightened state of arousal.

If there was ever a time to consider stopping, it's long gone now.

Her eyes are hungry and her lips restless as she divests me of my shirt and bra, holding breasts far larger than her own, somewhat reverently within her palms.

"God Liv."

Her voice is husky and laced with seduction, and my mind wanders as I wonder how many others she's let see her this way.

"Stop that!" She growls, nipping along my jaw line with intent to leave marks. "Stop thinking up reasons why we shouldn't or excuses to tell me this isn't a good idea."

My pulse races as I ask. "_Is_ this a good idea?"

She gives me a wry smile, before sitting back to unbutton her jeans. My mouth falls open and I know I'm biting the inside of my bottom lip as she slides the zipper down slowly.

"I don't know Liv …" She grabs my right hand in hers and shoves both roughly inside her jeans. "What do you think?"

I can feel her panties are soaked through as she moves herself against my hand.

"Fuck, Alex …"

"Yeah …"

A rising tension works its way up my spine, from my lower back to my shoulders, until suddenly there's nothing in my mind but the purpose of making her come and watching as she falls apart in my arms.

She lifts forward, onto her knees, each positioned either side of mine on the sofa, and lets one hand tangle in my hair, the other supporting her against the back of the couch. I continue to rub against the damp material of her panties, capturing one errant nipple in my mouth as she gasps and bucks her hips against my hand.

"Please Liv …" She dips her head to whisper against my ear. "I need you."

I can feel it, I can feel how her breath hitches against my cheek and her tongue darts out haphazardly, betraying that she's lost her focus in teasing me and moved further towards the search for her own release.

"Alex …" I whisper, as my fingers slide the slick material of her panties to one side. It's tight, and my wrist's already aching but I know her clit must be aching more, and I doubt it'll take much to get her off. "Alex …" My voice turns into a rasp as my fingers slide into warm, wet heat. "You've got to know …" I croak. "I always knew."

Her eyes lock onto mine, then roll back in her head as I slide two fingers into her and she readily accepts.

"Yessssss!" She hisses, teeth nipping my bottom lip.

I can see she's going to come as soon as I touch that sensitive bundle of nerves. She wraps her lips around my tongue and pulls it into her mouth, warm and enveloping, sucking with the same strength and rhythm as her insides pull my fingers deep within her.

My thumb rubs across her clit and she jerks and shakes, the cries of her first, quick orgasm swallowed by my mouth. Moisture floods my hand as she rests against me, still rolling her hips back and forth, gently seeking more contact.

"I knew too …" She whispers, breathless and nonsensically. "More Liv … _please_ … I'm still …"

I hold her tight, should her knees threaten to buckle beneath her. She latches against my neck and sucks hard, leaving bruised purple circles I know I'll never manage to hide from the guys tomorrow. I don't care, a part of me wants to shout from the rooftops I just made Alex Cabot scream and I'm about to do it again.

I feel her walls clench down around my hand, she's teetering on the edge but holding on, caught between wanting this moment to last forever and needing to let herself fall. I tell her I've got her, softly against her hair, one hand inside her and the other around her ass, matching every movement. She bites down hard and the resulting pain I feel quickens the motion of my thumb flicking over her clit and seconds later I feel her cries as she silently screams my name into the air. It's beautiful.

After long minutes, where neither of us speaks, I ease my hand out from her pants and watch as the tiny after shocks rouse her to a semi conscious level.

She laughs, looking up at me and grinning stupidly, a smile on her face that could light and entire city for a month. I'm reminded of her words to me just a few hours before.

"You're laughing Alex, is that a good thing?"

Her smile turns to a frown first and then to a look of unadulterated, predatory desire.

I gulp.

Suddenly my stomach knots like it used to when we'd fight, and the image of Alex's face in the throes of orgasm mixes with my recurring daydream of tossing her black framed glasses aside, ripping her courtroom clothes off her body and pounding her roughly on her office desk.

"Liv …" She bites my lip softly, soothing it then with her tongue. "Shut up …"

TBC

**I *love* reviews :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**Same disclaimers apply …**

**A/N **– Firstly *huge thanks* for all the messages and reviews you guys are awesome! Secondly *huge* apologies for the delay in posting, please take up your concerns with the delightful folks from whatever water company are digging up down our road and cut through my broadband cable. *sob* - it's been a tough time!

Thirdly, Happy Valentine's Day to everyone for tomorrow, I've just returned from a delightful weekend with my girl to a fixed internet connection and everything is right with my world so now I'm working on a little A/O thingy for tomorrow, keep a look out.

As always reviews are lovely and it's great to hear what people think.

**16th Precinct, Special Victims Unit**

**The following day …**

"You want some coffee Liv?"

Elliot's smile betrays how much he's longing to ask why I'm still in my turtleneck sweater _and_ a jacket even though it's getting to be stifling hot in here.

I shake my head, holding forth a chilled can of soda. "No, I'm good thanks."

"So …" He sits on the edge of my desk, just like Alex would whilst 'trying' to pretend that her close proximity wasn't deliberately intended to drive me crazy. "How'd it go?"

I'm too busy thinking about Alex, and her month long suspension and what that means for the constant flood of sex flashbacks I'm having whilst sitting at my desk. My mind drifts to the visage of her blonde hair all messy on my pillow when she woke up in my arms this morning … and the smile on her face as she shyly pulled back the shower curtain to kiss me, both of us fighting the urge to make me late for work for the first time in my entire life.

"Liv?"

I really have to stop thinking about Alex, otherwise it's going to be a long, unproductive, and frustrating month. "How'd what go El?"

"You and Cabot."

I raise my eyes from a stack of incomplete DD5's, pulling together the best look of innocence I can muster. "I've no idea what you mean …"

He laughs. "Yeah right, and if I inspect your neck it _wont_ be covered in Cabot-sized bite marks?"

I sit back, knowing I'll have to give him something if he's ever going to leave me alone.

I tap my pen against the desk, shrugging my shoulders as if to say nothing was ever 'less' of a big deal. "We talked …"

"Talked about where she was allowed to bite you …?" He teases.

He's so smug, his lips curl inwardly in that cunning smile. I know if Alex was here he wouldn't dare be so bold, he'd never admit it but even now she still scares him a little bit.

I grin, leaning across to snatch a donut from the bag he's holding out. "Just cos I never let _you_ bite me, doesn't mean the same applies for everyone else!"

I lick the jelly off my bottom lip and a bemused, almost pained expression crosses his face as he turns and walks away.

Resigned, defeated, or even a little jealous, I can't say.

_Some time this morning, or last night, or whenever it was we finally made it to her bed, we both lay face down – arms and legs entangled, with Alex mostly on top of me. And out of some primitive need to not stop until she'd fully explored every morsel of my skin, she bit lazily across my back and over my shoulder blades, alternating between deep soft tastes, teasing nips with her teeth and soft wet kisses. _

"_You taste amazing." She mumbled, saying it for the hundredth time since we finally made it to the bed, too exhausted to do anything but lie there and bask in the feel of each other's moist skin making electrifying contact everywhere. She growled. "Rrrrr … so delicious."_

_I chuckled, it was exactly how the last round started, somewhere between leaving the couch and making it to the bed, neither one of us able to hold off any longer from the feel of each other's hands, and lips, and teeth … and tongue. _

_I groaned. "Alex …"_

_She bit softly against the taut skin of the back of my neck, hard enough to feel but soft enough to avoid leaving a mark the following day, she continued her exploration with a soothing lick, annunciating my name in her throat. _

"_Yes … O – liv – i – a?"_

_I could only moan my reply. _

_She slid her body further on top of me, pert breasts and hardened nipples raking across my back as she ground her pelvis into my ass and moaned into the back of my neck. The feel of her neatly trimmed curls, glistened with moisture and tickling against the base of my spine had me gripping the sheets out of frustration. _

"_I'm never gonna get up for work in the morning if we carry on like this …" I exhaled breathlessly. _

_Immediately, I regretted it, the isolative bubble of our passion - locked within the walls of her apartment - had abruptly burst all around us. Her body tensed and the swirling licks of her tongue that were making their way down my spine, halted, and became cautious breaths as she struggled with what to say. _

"_Don't Liv …"_

_I felt her upper arms tense as she contemplated pulling away, so I turned beneath her and we lay face to face, our entire bodies touching, melted together in a blissful, blended harmony. She let her head rest inside the crook of my neck and I remember that I smiled because her hair was soft and smelled wonderful as it fell against my cheek. _

_I soothed her softly, running my fingers through her hair. "Alex, baby … it'll be okay."_

_She shifted slightly to one side, errant fingers running random patterns across my stomach and left breast. We both felt sticky, sweaty, and delightfully sore yet I knew I'd never grow tired of seeing her body and watching her get that way. _

"_I know …" She mumbled. The tone in her voice changed as she began to quell her growing anxiety. "I can use the time to catch up on all my unfilled tax-returns, it'll be a blast!"_

_I laughed, because it was expected and because I didn't want her to assume I knew she was covering with her expert mask. _

"_Read all those books you never read?" I added in._

_She continued. "Take walks in the park …"_

"_I'll miss you." I offered. _

_It didn't need to be said, it was obvious to both of us and even if we hadn't just slept together she'd still know that the Olivia and Alex who were 'just good friends' would struggle to go that long without the regular comfort of one another. _

_She laughed again, that same delicious sound that comes from the lighter part inside, the one that cries at old movies and if she sees a dead pigeon in the park. Not the one who battles against the evils she prosecutes, in the hope that the law will fix things, then carries home with her the victims who have to live with the evils she cant overcome. _

"_I think we broke all our rules Liv."_

_I grinned. "Actually … I think *you* broke them first?"_

"_Me?" Her head snapped up. "It was so you …"_

"_You sat in my lap Alex …" I forced out hoarsely, the mental image of it still causing my clit to harden and an uncomfortable flood of moisture to pool between my legs._

_My heart rate shot up and thundered loudly inside my chest. _

_She leant forwards, her head on her flexed elbow. "But you came back in from the rain …"_

"_I did."_

"_You forgave me."_

"_I did."_

_Even when she couldn't forgive herself. _

_Her eyes grew serious, and seemed distant as she tensed in my arms and I wondered, had it not been for the fact we lay naked in 'her' apartment – in her bed – whether she might not have, at that point, tried running out on me. _

"_Where are you going?" I asked. _

"_Nowhere …" She looked caught, scared that our having slept together hadn't changed my ability to read her thoughts. _

_I tightened my grip around her. "Alex it's fine, I've said far worse things to myself, believe me."_

"_But it was unforgivable." She mumbled, leaning down to lay soft kisses in the hollow between my collarbones. She raised her head to capture my lips and her voice was barely audible as she spoke. "I promised myself if I ever managed to get you Liv, you'd be the one person I'd *never* ever hurt."_

_I pushed her away from me, to stare at her beautiful face - slightly marred by the events of the last few days. She seemed to have grown stronger, as I held her and she admitted to entertaining the idea that of all the people in our world, I was the person she chose to go after, and the person she chose to never intentionally harm. _

"_I'm not hurt Alex …" I reassured her, feeling quite anything but. "I'm fine." I couldn't think of any other way to say how I felt and how very 'okay' everything was between us. "Really Alex, I'm more than fine … I've got you."_

_She turned her face away, and despite my growing need to capture her lips in a soul destroying kiss and wash all the fear and agony far away, I let her keep her distance, and watched with a twinge of pain as a single solitary tear rolled down her cheek, making it feel like we were still awash on separate desert islands with miles of ocean laid out between us. _

"_Liv." She whispered, turning back to me and dropping her knee between my thighs. She gasped at the mixture of moisture and burning heat, and the way my hips rolled forwards to meet her touch, just like a primitive reflex. "Liv … please … touch me …"_

*Ring* *Ring* *Ring*

Elliot smirks, shoving a glazed donut in his face and licking his fingers seductively. I can feel a blush rising in my cheeks and take a moment before answering to rid my mind of a certain blonde and certain thoughts, namely her mouth and her fingers going places I'd never imagined would …

"You gonna answer that?" Fin asks, irritated by the consistent shrill ringing.

I pick up my desk phone, startled by the huskiness in my voice when I start to speak. "Benson, Special Victims Unit?"

A familiar chuckle fills my ears and I find myself instantly relaxing at the sound. "Do you always answer your phone like that, or are you actually a heavy breathing stalker?"

"Hey Alex." I mumble, relieved that Cragen just called Elliot into his office and Fin and Munch seem otherwise engaged. "What's up?"

She laughs, and in my mind I picture her laid naked on her bed, she's wearing a gown but it's open at the front and as she talks, her other hand wanders lazily up and down her abdomen. I sigh, because it's 10:30am and even if the day stays quiet like it is now, my stack of paperwork will keep me here until seven.

"Just thought I'd call." She states distractedly. "I was just, y'know, filling in my tax-returns and it made me think of you …"

I sigh, only Alex Cabot could make talking about taxes sound sexy.

"What you doing?" She asks. She sounds like there's a swagger to her voice.

"Nothing. Thinking about you and trying not to make it too obvious?"

I can't know for sure, but I'm convinced I can 'hear' her grinning. "Awww, you're thinking about me?"

It's a long time until seven; even if I start something over the phone that I can't finish, the only one who'll really suffer is me. Alex is home, alone, in her spacious apartment with enough room to do as she pleases. My imagination travels back to the image of Alex, half naked on her bed, and I'm a little scared we're about to wander down a dangerous road, for me anyway.

"Don't …" I exhale.

"What's the matter Liv?"

"You're making it difficult to concentrate." I whisper.

"You wanna know what I'm thinking about?"

Yes.

No.

Oh Hell.

"Alex …" My voice disappears into a cautious intake of breath as I scan the squad room for any indication that someone is angling to overhear. "If it's anything like what _I've_ been thinking about all morning, it probably involves my mouth on you, my fingers in you and you … you, simply laid there looking utterly beautiful and loudly screaming my name."

I hadn't quite planned to be so graphic and suddenly the other end of the line goes very, very still.

"Alex?"

"Uh … huh?" She grunts, making clear her displeasure that I just completely turned her on and wont be able to do anything about it for at least another 8 or 9 hours …

She used to make the same sound sometimes when I chased her like a dog after a juicy bone, ready to chew every bit of life out of whatever argument we were currently on a pause from continuing with. I used to hear her make that same noise, a mixture of defeat, frustration and something else, something I've never been able to identify until now.

Turns out that sound, is Alex Cabot when she's horny.

Horny, and denied of what she wants.

Suddenly the air inside the precinct grows thick, it's so warm I almost consider taking off my jacket and enduring the amount of teasing I would get from where Alex left sizeable bite marks behind my left ear. A little part of me feels relieved she's not working down the street in the DA's office, otherwise a little fantasy that neither one of us has yet admitted to, might be in danger of readily coming true.

I could pinch myself, but I still wouldn't fully believe last night actually happened.

_The first time I ever made her come, I could have blinked and probably missed it. She seemed to have penetrated my insides and I couldn't be sure where the sounds were coming from, her or me, or both of us together. _

_She asked for more, and without any intention of stopping, I complied, her legs astride me, her face pushed into the angle of my neck and jaw as she used one hand to hold back her hair and the other to anchor herself against me. _

_The second time she came, I felt it, perhaps even before she did, a series of pulsing, electrifying shocks that rocketed through my soul and connected us forever. _

_She went quiet for a while, leant against me as her breathing changed from ragged to shallow and her chest heaved against mine. Then she surveyed me with a predatory stare, eyes filled with lust and desire as she took in my half naked form. I started to ramble incoherently as the look in her eyes made my mouth go parched and arid, oddly enough the only part of my body to 'not' be wet. _

_She told me to shut up, as I started to question how and why and whether we should or shouldn't have allowed it or explored it or given in. She captured my mouth, owning it with a force that knocked the wind from my sails as her hands moved to the button on my fly, quickly undoing and divesting me of my jeans. I felt a shiver as the warmth of her body moved away from me, almost missing the shimmy in her hips as she wriggled free of her own jeans, casting them quickly aside. I looked down from her eyes and felt cheated, knowing I'd missed her slide the tight denim off her hips, her breasts still jiggling from the movement. _

_There was no suggestion she felt shy or had second thoughts as she slid her thumbs inside the waistband of her panties and cast the lacy bit of material aside, turning her attention to the only piece of clothing still between her and her ultimate goal. _

_Me._

_I groaned. _

_I hadn't meant to, but she swirled her tongue around the crease of my left knee, dragging a line from there up the inside of my thigh as my legs instinctively fell open. _

"_Mmmn." She inhaled deeply. "I can tell how much you want me. God Liv, that's such a fucking turn-on."_

_No kidding. I never wanted anything that much in my entire life. It felt like every part of my body was on fire, never mind the raging heat and moisture pooled between my thighs. I could have begged, sobbed, or pleaded, but for some reason I trusted Alex implicitly to give me what I craved. _

_So I turned the back of my hand towards my mouth, prepared to bite down hard as she slid my underwear off and settled herself between my legs. _

_That first contact, so barely there it was so gentle. I needed more and my hips bucked to meet her tongue, wishing she was in me and on me and all over me at the same time. And yet the elegance of her touch was so delicious and divine I could have endured my torment a lot longer. _

_Her naked ass lifted a little higher into the air as she repositioned herself, hooking both arms beneath my thighs to allow better access. She slid her tongue deep within my folds and a guttural moan sprang from down inside my belly, momentarily surprising us both. _

_There were people before her, of course. _

_I couldn't have named or recalled a single complimentary thing about any one of them. _

_While I was busy replacing every mental imagine inside my head with that of Alex Cabot and her naked ass as she was busy going down on me, two fingers swirled around my opening, barely seeking entrance before plunging right in. _

"_Fuck … Alex."_

_My hips lurched forwards, met her teeth and tongue as she latched firmly onto my clit and the first hint of orgasm rushed through me. I felt her suck hard as she curled her fingers, seeming to reach within and press gently but forcefully over the centre of my being, throwing out explosive stars behind my eyes and a scream to match. _

"_Alexxxxxxxxxxxxx!"_

_When I couldn't give her any more, when I actually had to ask, silently, with my hand against her forehead that she back away. She crept back up my body, discretely wiping her face before lavishing mine with fragranced kisses._

"_That was amazing …" I gushed. "You're amazing … Alex …"_

_She laughed then, through continuous kisses to ensure that I knew, in my fragile state, that her laughter was in no way directed at me. _

"_I wish I knew …" She husked, capturing my bottom lip between her teeth and pulling it back. "All those months ago, that all I needed to do to render you speechless … was __that__."_

"Liv?"

Alex's voice, in my ear.

The mental image disappears and for a moment I'm sad, then I remember the real thing is ringing me up at work, her voice drenched in the remnants of last night's sex as both of us struggle with the notion it wasn't an illusion.

"Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"How soon can you get finished?"

I look at the stack of DD5's, they were there before the Cavanaugh case started, they'll still be there in the morning if I leave here at five instead of seven.

"Uh, five … maybe four thirty if Elliot remembers that he likes me and things stay like they are now?"

Alex chuckles. "Tell him it was on my orders."

I choke. "Somehow I don't think that would really help."

She starts to purr. "Aww, poor baby, are the mean boys teasing you …?"

"No." I groan. "Not yet, but I'm still in my sweater and jacket."

"Liv you must be sweltering?"

"I am."

She knows what she's doing, she's very cleverly reminding me that she marked me last night, that she made me hers.

"Liv?"

"Uh huh?"

"Be here at seven, oh and bring a bag, I want to feed you dinner."

My eyes widen. "You cook?"

She chuckles, her voice dropping several decibels. "No, why, do you?"

My stomach flips as I quickly catch on to her request. "Oh …"

TBC …

**A bit of a mean place to stop, I know :D**

**Reviews would be lovely!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Same disclaimers apply …**

**A/N – **Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I'm really glad people are enjoying this story, I really like how Alex can be vulnerable here and so in a way, they both can. Anyway, I think there are probably a few more chapters to come but not too many since I'm going to be quite busy with work over the next few weeks so I don't want to keep folks hanging.

As always, drop me a review if you can and let me know what you think!

**Apartment of Alexandra Cabot**

**Later that night …**

It's funny how I keep finding myself stood outside Alex's apartment building contemplating how it is we've ended up in a particular situation. It used to be that extra moment I needed to consider in what capacity I was 'calling round', friend, co-worker, something more? This time I'm here just as the sun's going down, casting a reddish hue of amber and gold across the city skyline, the angry colours mentally preparing me for what I think I'm about to find.

I can't imagine what irrational part of me thought that Alexandra Cabot - workaholic, control freak and supremely organised person - would take kindly to her daily routine of a morning run followed by work, court, more work, and eventually home for some light reading and perhaps a just little bit of … er … more work, being interrupted and thrown into a tailspin.

So I'm kicking myself for not being more sensitive, except at this present moment, trying to read Alex is a bit like try to follow a yo-yo going up and down with your eyes, one minute she's up and the next she's down. One minute she's begging me to give work the slip so she can fuck me on her expensive couch until I can no longer see straight and the next she's yelling at me down the phone telling me not to bother with dinner since I think she ruined all of our careers and will probably ruin our relationship eventually as well.

I've looked for the hidden meaning in all that, which suggests I might stand a chance of coming out of tonight unscathed, and surprisingly came up with nothing.

Yet I'm still here, at 7.30pm, met by a sympathetic glance from the doorman who by the looks of things may have also encountered the wrath of ADA Cabot today. There's an air of stillness to me being here, to the fact that despite her behaviour towards me today I haven't decided to run. I'm being brave, I came back and in the context of our short, yet lengthy relationship, it's the second or third time of me doing so.

So Alex Cabot can yell and scream or throw things if she chooses, turns out I'm not scared any more, I'm here to stay.

_Our second phone call of the day started out quite different than our first one. _

"_Just what did you mean by that Liv?"_

_I paused before answering, unsure what it was about my earlier text - playfully thanking Alex for the fact Elliot and I would have to endure a meeting with Liz Donnelly and Arthur Branch – that warranted such a response. Really all they needed us for was to go over our 'side of the story' regarding the illegal search at the Cavanaugh's residence, which Elliot already drew a line under – stating emphatically that 'Cabot did what any one of us would have done', under the circumstances._

"_I don't know what you're talking about?" I mumbled, faintly aware that despite being on my cell, Alex's voice was thundering out. _

"_Just a little reminder was it? Meant to not let me forget that I could have been responsible for us all losing our jobs, not just me? It's not bad enough I'm already feeling guilty about the cases left sitting on my desk 'not' being prosecuted because the SVU no longer has it's own ADA?"_

"_Alex …" I walked out of the squad room, seeking a bit of privacy in one of the unoccupied interview rooms as Elliot shot me a look of sympathetic understanding. "Alex …" I tried again. "Baby, I have 'no' idea where you got all that from but it certainly wasn't from me."_

_She sighed, weary and resigned like the weight of the world was back at rest upon her shoulders, driven by Sam Cavanaugh's misery and his mother's grief. _

"_I really hate this Liv." She mumbled. "It's only 3pm and I'm already tearing my hair out. I cleaned the apartment, did three loads of laundry and now I'm alphabetising my CD collection." She laughed a little maniacally at herself. "I think I need help!"_

_I chuckled. "Alex, sweetie, you just described an entire weekend of chores … maybe you need to slow down a little bit?"_

_She ruefully agreed. "Perhaps. I'm sorry."_

_I should have left it at that._

_I should have told her it didn't matter and then simply allowed us to move forwards onto something else. _

_Instead, I opened my mouth and placed my oversized boot promptly in it. "Anyway, don't worry about it … the DA's office already assigned us someone else to cover your cases so things are still getting done around here without you, it's fine."_

_She went quiet, and I could have sworn a cartoon character ran in to Interview 2 and smacked me over the head with an inflatable bat, making imaginary birds circle round me in a dazed and confused state. _

"_Thanks a lot Liv."_

"_Alex …" I couldn't have backpedaled fast enough. "You know I didn't mean … what I mean is … of course we'd rather have you, it's just I thought …"_

"_You thought it would help me to know I'm so easily replaceable to you all, to you?"_

"_No."_

_She was just being ridiculous. Like the conversation the previous night in her apartment I could see it unfolding, it was like any other time we'd fight over warrants or which one of us had the victim's best interests most in our hearts. Seemed we could fight without probable cause, we just made up our own rules and ran with it. _

_Only these recent fights were different, somebody actually stood to get hurt now, and as much as I never wanted it to be Alex, I also didn't want it to be me. _

"_You're being unreasonable Alex …" I sighed, energy and lustre lacking from my voice. "We __all__ miss you and we __all__ wish you were here but I'm not going to apologise for being grateful they sent us someone to cover for you while you're off, you were completely right in what you said the cases 'do' still need to be prosecuted."_

"_Say it like you mean it Liv." She snapped back. "And I'm not 'off' – I'm suspended in case you forgot, a suspension I willingly took as *my* punishment to save all our asses."_

"_We never asked you to do that Alex." I pointed out, unwilling to let her be a martyr and fall on her own sword. "Elliot and I are big kids, we're perfectly capable of looking out for ourselves."_

"_Fine." She hissed. "Next time, I won't bother, you and your *partner* can easily get yourselves in to enough trouble __without__ my help. And while we're at it – maybe you should __not__ bother coming to dinner tonight either."_

"_Fine!" I shot back. Couldn't help it, the words just flew from my lips. Sometimes she makes me so infuriated I lose sight of why that is, because I actually care more for her than anyone, ever before. _

"_Fine!" She repeated, each time growing louder. "Good! Gives me time to finish organising my CD's."_

_I exhaled then out of sheer frustration, feeling the effect of her so easily pushing my buttons. So without thinking I said the one thing I knew would really rile her up. "Oh grow up Alex."_

_She yelled back at me before promptly slamming her phone shut. "Fuck you Liv!"_

"_Trouble in paradise?" Elliot asked, I suppose he'd been watching the tail end of our exchange through the two-way mirror. _

_I shrugged. "That may have just been the end of my shortest relationship to date."_

_He joined me in leaning against the table. "You know what I think Liv?"_

_He took my silence as permission to continue. _

"_When it comes to being in love with a woman, you gotta accept, right from the start that there'll be some things you'll never understand, but for some reason you won't care, because you love them anyway."_

_I chuckled. "Very insightful Dr Phil."_

_He shoved against me playfully. "Give her a break Liv, the Cavanaugh case nearly broke her, you know …" He paused, mentally doing the maths. "She's stuck it out here with us longer than most, there's got to have been a couple dozen cases she wanted to leave over before now and I'm sure there'll be at least a couple dozen more before she actually does."_

_The very idea of Alex deciding to leave SVU made my blood run cold and I shivered. _

"_It's quiet today." He mumbled. "Why don't you cash in an IOU from one of the many kid-things I've abandoned you for and cut out early, take Cabot some roses or something and kiss and make up, whatever it is you girls do."_

_He laughed at his own mock-chauvinism._

"_I will." I said, suddenly feeling a lot better. "And if she ever decides to speak to me again I'm gonna tell her what you just said, and how *you* were the one who told me to cut her some slack."_

"_Aw … Liv!" He whined like a little boy, secretly hoping I would. "Ruin my reputation why don't you?"_

So against my better judgement I'm here, whether or not I'll get as far as telling Alex it was Elliot's push that brought me here, I don't know. I decided against the roses though, if Alex still wants me then Alex gets me, just the way I am.

I watch the doorman ring up, getting the impression she didn't want to leave herself open to any surprises tonight. Then I trudge slowly towards the elevator, ignoring the 'all over each other' couple already waiting to get in, since I recognise them as Alex's neighbours from her floor.

The doors ping and the couple separate, I'm envious of the ease with which they're together, nothing about this thing between Alex and I feels easy anymore, or comfortable or secure – except that in that last second before the elevator doors fully open and there's no turning back I realise when I think of her, even when I'm mad at her, this feeling of warmth washes over me and I want more of it. Not something I've ever been familiar with before.

She's already stood waiting for me at the open door, leant against the frame with her blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and her black framed glasses on her face with no make-up on. It makes her look younger, especially since she's sporting grey flannel pants with a maroon Harvard logo emblazoned on the left hip and a maroon Harvard t-shirt that rides a little high on her waist.

"You thinking of being a freshman again?" I quip. Hoping a classic Benson joke might ease the tension.

It almost works as well, a definite twitch suggesting a smile threatens to escape from her lips.

"I thought I told you not to bother coming?" She says coldly, as I approach her cautiously at the door.

Part of me longs to sweep her up in my arms and kiss her. Then there's a tiny part that longs to bite back with some equally chilly retort, commencing round 'x' of a battle neither one of us will win, but following on from which there's a small hope we might end up in bed having awesome make up sex now we've finally crossed that line.

"You did." I answer softly. "And I listened to what you said, and then I decided to disregard it as part of our first real fight as a couple."

Her icy stare melts a little.

"Come on Alex …" I gently push her. "Let me in?"

She obliges and stands aside. "You know you're lucky I took into account you're even more stubborn than I am." She whispers after me, and as I push back the door to her apartment I understand why.

The dining table bears every option of Chinese food and by the smell of it, only recently delivered. An open bottle of red wine and two glasses sit beside a blue porcelain vase filled with fragrant pink and white lilies.

"Roses are such a cliché way of saying I'm sorry." She says, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Chinese food's more my style!"

"Alex …" There's a sentence building inside my throat, it tastes bitter because every time I've ever heard it used it only ever carried a negative connotation. "Alex …" She slides her hands softly across my belly, and for a second I'm tempted to let her use sex to get us past this difficult moment. "We need to talk?"

She sighs against my hair. "Really Liv? Giving me the brush off so soon?"

I turn in her embrace and find that the blue eyes I expect to see are almost grey and filled with tears.

"Alex?"

She hides herself in the neck of my jacket, and I hear her inhale deeply, filling her lungs with my scent.

"I've never _not_ had something to occupy my time Liv." She mumbles, the occasional word almost lost against the thundering pulse in my neck.

My bravery falters, I'm not sure I can cobble together enough strength for both of us right now.

"Alex …"

"It's ok Liv." She pulls away and stares intently into my eyes. "I don't expect you to understand, but _what I do_, that's _who I am_, without it I feel like I'm not Alex Cabot anymore …"

I chuckle, my arms slipping lower down her waist to investigate the soft flannel of her sweatpants and the tempting strip of bare skin above.

"I think I might understand that more than you think." I whisper softly.

She grins. "Are you telling me that Detective Olivia Benson is also married to the job?"

"Maybe."

Answering that question is somewhat complicated by the fact that _she_ is a part of that job and without her, I'm sure I'd feel the same way about turning up to work there day after day.

"You'll get through this, Alex." I promise. "We'll get through this."

She leans forward and places a soft, warm kiss against my lips, holding herself back from deepening it.

I'm falling in love with her, I can't help myself, despite fighting to remain focused and holding back from allowing myself to get caught up in the idea that she needs me now and needs me more because her pride is wounded and battered.

I love this side of her, open and vulnerable and dare I say it … soft?

Her hands slip further inside my jacket, working up my sides and around the front to slide the leather from my shoulders as she kisses me again, leaving me tingling and aching for more.

She slides her tongue along the length of my lower lip as my jacket finally falls to the floor. I give in, sighing into her, as her mouth lavishes mine - exploring and capturing me to reassure herself that I'm hers.

A soft sigh escapes my lips and I feel her grin, taking pleasure in knowing that she does that to me, reducing me to monosyllabic sounds with just one immeasurable kiss.

"You should know, I'm going to be a pain in the ass until this next month is over." She states softly, words punctuated by kisses, which cloud my judgement and leave me wondering if there's some innocuous spell cast by her lips that could potentially lead me to commit murder? Amongst other things.

"You should know, I'm probably going to be a pain in your ass for a lot longer than that!" I chuckle, my eyes twinkling with mischief.

She roars her head back in laughter. "God I hope so."

Something unspoken passes between us, silently cementing an understanding that occasional outbursts of ridiculousness wont shake the foundations of what we're building.

I kiss her, firm and fast, and with my fingers exploring the dimples of her lower back I walk her backwards towards the table.

"Thank you for the flowers." I rasp.

Suddenly the memory of the feel of her beneath my fingers ignites something that threatens to leave the Chinese food untouched for several hours.

"Elliot told me I should bring you flowers, I'm sorry I didn't."

"I don't care …"

Her voice sounds husky with increasing need and I watch in awe as a rising blush spreads from her neck, where I'm kissing her, and down the v neckline of her t-shirt.

"I don't need flowers Liv, only you."

Her body trembles in my arms, sometimes I can't believe she lets me hold her like this, a normally fierce being – she surrenders herself for me and it makes her beautiful.

"I …" The words falter in my throat, threatening to make me look like a coward. "Alex … I …"

She tilts her head and smiles, for a second I think she's going to laugh at me and my inability, then I remember that she knows me better than I know myself and so she knows exactly what I'm trying to say.

"Liv …"

Her fingers trace my eyebrows, my cheeks, and my lips before softly capturing them between her own.

"… if you didn't love me, you wouldn't be here."

TBC …

**Reviews would be fab :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Same disclaimers apply …**

**A/N** – So I feel like this story is coming to an end, unless anyone can suggest where they think it should be going I think I'm going to wrap things up in the next chapter, or thereabouts. Not the end though – already got a few more things in the pipeline!

Thanks again for all the reviews, and I realise I say that every post and I hope it doesn't sound shallow because it really is great to read all your comments, I'm just sorry I can't reply to them all in person but I am reading and they are spurring me on to a) write this story more, b) write more stories in general and c) put Alex and Olivia in a variety of different situations for potential story writing at the most inopportune moments (i.e. when at work in the middle of a staff meeting …) So yeah, please keep up the reviews they are like food for the writers soul!

**Apartment of Olivia Benson**

**The following evening …**

"I can't believe you cook!" Alex giggles, noting that all I'm really doing is throwing mushrooms in the pan, which I'll follow with two juicy steaks that I picked up from the market on my way home. "Anything I can do to help?" She offers sweetly.

"There's some salad in the fridge." I suggest. "Dressing is in the door and there's tomatoes in the bowl on top."

"Mmmnn." She makes yummy noises as the meat hits the pan and an aroma fills the tiny kitchen of my apartment.

She's being cute, avoiding asking me what she really wants to know which is how our meeting with Donnelly and Branch went this afternoon.

Instead she plucks the tomatoes off their vine, chops the flesh and tosses them into the salad, mixing in a little light dressing before placing the salad bowl behind us in the centre of my modest dining table.

This is new for us, hanging out in my apartment doing ordinary things together. Even as 'Alex and Olivia who were just good friends, we often hung out at her apartment rather than mine, just in that the location was better and it afforded more space. Now I'm wondering if I tried to avoid bringing her here, because this space is hugely personal for me and only certain people are granted special entrance.

She grins at me, content to watch from afar as I dazzle her with my limited culinary skills. For some reason someone up there is smiling down on me and this is the third consecutive evening this week I've left work at a reasonable hour. Either that or there's just more incentive to leave, now that there's someone for me to want to go home to.

She comes up behind me, watching over my shoulder with her chin resting in the crook of my neck as I flatten the steaks in the pan. Her hands snake round my waist, moving from my hips to squeeze gently against my stomach and I sigh.

"Smells good."

I don't know if she means me, or the food, I don't care, she nuzzles my neck and inhales and my thighs tremble as my knees threaten to give way.

"Uh huh."

She laughs. "Relax Liv." Soft kisses trace a path down behind my right ear, finishing up at the angle of my jaw. "I'm not gonna start interrogating you until you've fed me, it smells too delicious."

I chuckle. "Lucky for you it's just about ready then."

Her stomach gives a loud grumble, and she releases her lips from my neck, seconds away from making me her appetiser. I'm suddenly relieved to have her here, to feed her and take care of her – she's seemed too fragile of late and the idea that Alex Cabot is happy eating steak and salad in my cobbled together apartment with wobbly chair legs at the dining room table makes me eternally happy and grateful.

"Come on then." I urge her, dishing up the steak and potatoes onto plates. "Take a seat."

She grabs the bottle of Merlot she's opened for us, and two glasses from the top shelf of the cabinet, placing them on the table and pouring generously into both.

"Thanks Liv, this looks great."

She flashes a glowing smile and I can't stop myself from leaning down to kiss her as I pass her plate. She arches up, her fingers tracing my jaw line as she holds me there to drag the kiss on deeper.

"Mmmnn."

She makes that sound, and once again my belly flips and my knees go weak.

I let my fingers linger a little in the hair against the back of her neck. "Eat your steak Alex."

We sit close, across one corner of the table; it's the way she chose to set it up. With a genuine smile she appreciatively takes a bite out of her steak, before kicking off one shoe first then the other, sliding her bare foot across the top of mine, and inching her way up my pant leg.

I grin. "I think your feet might get a little cold Counsellor?"

She smiles, her eyes never leaving the food she's devouring on her plate as she slides her foot up even further. "I'll find a way to keep them warm."

* * *

"_Detectives."_

_Liz Donnelly's voice made me shudder, possibly at hearing another blonde ADA use that term in a manner reminiscent of Elliot and I being about to be reamed for something we'd either done, not done or supposedly should have done. _

"_Please." She continued. "Do come in."_

_We took our seats across the other side of the desk from Alex's boss Arthur Branch, with Donnelly perched by the window. The room smelled of scotch and cigar smoke and Elliot shot me a knowing glance as we both sat down, he really hates the class division between law … and order. _

"_I'm sure you both know very well by now why you're here." Branch grizzled, with his trademark smoker's rasp, he got up. "Alexandra broke the rules and now it's my job to clarify whether you two …" He hesitated then, seeming to consider whether or not to insert a derogatory adjective in there to describe us. "Knew about it or not?"_

"_Easy." Elliot's heckles instantly went up, he can be so damn defiant towards anyone in a position of authority, not that I suppose I'm any better. "We didn't."_

_Branch shot him a glare of frustration. _

"_When ADA Cabot contacted you to inform you of the search of the Cavanaugh residence who did she speak to?" Liz asked, knowing full well from her conversation with Alex that that was me. _

"_Me." I replied calmly, arms crossed around my front. _

"_And what exactly did she say?" Branch prompted, his tone that of a father trying to prise information from his unwilling, unruly children. _

_I shrugged, I couldn't help myself. "Can't remember."_

_Donnelly snorted. "Olivia, I've known you many years, your memory is a hell of a lot better than that!"_

_I turned back to see her smiling oddly at me. "Fine." I mumbled. "She said we could go ahead and search the Cavanaugh's apartment."_

"_She didn't say she had a warrant?" Branch asked. _

"_Not in those words, no."_

"_But it was implied?" Donnelly suggested. "I mean, you and Alex are friends, right? She wouldn't have to say something word for word, for you to know what was meant by it?"_

_Elliot and I both shot her a perplexed look. "What's that supposed to mean?" Elliot snapped. _

"_Just that." Donnelly pressed. _

"_Yes." I stated warily. "Yes, I suppose from what Alex said I assumed that she had a warrant for the search." I figured since Alex was already out on suspension, some things didn't matter anymore. "But no, she never actually said it."_

"_What about when you arrived at the residence?" Branch asked, sounding as if he was growing tired by the whole thing. "What happened then?"_

_Elliot sighed, matching the older man's irritation. "Cabot was standing in the doorway with Linda Cavanaugh, she held the door open for us …" He added pointedly. "Liv asked if there were any restrictions on the search, Alex said no, and we went in."_

_For a split second a brief memory of that moment washed over me, the sight of Alex – pale and gaunt, leant against the door frame to the outside of the Cavanaugh's apartment. I couldn't help acknowledging to myself that right then I cared less about what we would find inside that apartment and more about helping her. _

_As we left Branch's office, Donnelly followed us out and called me back. "Detective Benson, may I have a word?"_

_Elliot shot me a pitying glace. "I'll see you downstairs."_

_I nodded, steeling a deep breath before following Liz down the opposite coridoor towards her own office. _

"_Please …" She gestured inside. _

_I tossed my jacket over the back of a soft leather chair, something about Liz Donnelly being friendly made me a degree beyond uncomfortable. _

"_How is Alex?" She asked, laying the question open to be interpreted either way. _

"_I … um … she's fine I suppose." I faltered. "A little bored I think."_

"_Already?" She suppressed her laughter down to a mild chuckle. "I thought even Alex would last a little bit longer than this!"_

_I shrugged, not wanting to betray how well I knew just *how* bored Alex was, thereby betraying also how well I now knew Alex. _

"_Here …" Liz passed me a small stack of files. "I'd be grateful if you could pass these on to her when you see her, just a little light reading to keep her occupied."_

"_I …" I stumbled again, hating how Liz seemed to be steps ahead of me at every turn. "How do you …?"_

_I meant to look incredulous as if to suggest that Liz was barking up the wrong tree if she thought I had plans to spend time with Alex during her suspension, the look on her face as I looked up told me it was pointless, turns out we were kidding no one. _

"_Give her my regards …" Liz added, issuing my dismissal. Her voice softened as I picked up my jacket and made set to walk out the door. "And tell her I hope she's feeling a bit better about things now."_

_I turned back, but she was already busy with something else, preparing to pick up the phone on her desk and make a call. I've no idea what made me do it, perhaps some curious need to speak to someone who was as inside Alex's head as Elliot was in mine. _

"_You knew?"_

_Liz replaced the receiver and looked up. "I suspected that you both had feelings for each other, yes. But …" She added gleefully. "Up until about thirty seconds ago I had no idea that I was right!"_

_Damnit!_

_I shrugged. "Well played."_

_She chuckled as I turned and left. "You're not the only one with interrogation skills Olivia!"_

_

* * *

_

Alex's steak is half eaten and her left foot is halfway up my calf towards my knee, making it difficult to concentrate on anything, especially food.

She makes me laugh so much with her playful little ways, acting all innocent so I'll be lulled into a false sense of security before she goes and turns the tables on me. Ever since she arrived this evening, wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear that she couldn't take it any longer, she simply had to know what happened with Donnelly and Branch.

These seductive tactics are designed to make me forget that I said I'd make her wait until after I fed her.

"_No work Alex, food first."_

She wiggles her toes, sliding forth to tickle behind my knee and on instinct my left hand whips down beneath the table, grabbing her ankle firmly and preventing further onslaught.

"Oh. Did I tell you Donnelly knows about us?" I state, my face completely still as I pretend to be eating my food with serious gusto. Alex's cutlery clatters in astonishment down onto her plate.

"What?"

Her foot falls to the floor, mission accomplished, I'll get this food down her even if it kills me.

"Eat your steak Alex."

She frowns at me and luckily I know she's not really mad. "Well played."

I burst out laughing. "Funny, that's exactly what _I said_ to Donnelly."

She folds her knife and fork neatly together and pushes the plate away, eyes focused on me intently. "Alright Detective, spill."

I grin, pushing my chair away from the table as I tap my lap, encouraging her to sit.

This is her favourite place to be, legs astride my lap – leaving her free to cover my body with the warmth of her embrace as she takes full advantage of the easy access it gives her to my mouth, my neck, my chest. All the while she's dominating me as I'm pinned beneath her, powerless to fight even if I wanted to.

She runs her fingers along my temples, capturing my lips in a breathless kiss, kneading them softly with her own as she nips and bites then soothes the sore skin with her tongue, tasting the sweet hint of dinner that still lingers.

"Mmmn." She moans into my mouth, her long tongue flicking against mine. "Dinner was amazing, but I still think you taste better."

My head thuds back against the wall behind, suddenly I'm not sure I'm still in control of this game that I started.

She grabs both my wrists from behind her back and holds them high above my head, loving the way I go limp beneath her, prepared to let her do whatever she wants with me. I've made it no secret that I also love it when she straddles me like this, the feel of her ass in my lap as she grinds slowly against my pelvis, easily obtaining access to anything she wants.

She holds my wrists together with one hand, using the other to work the buttons of my shirt open, only just as far down as my bra.

"So what exactly did Donnelly say?" She asks, placing a distracting line of hot wet kisses along the right side of my jaw.

I long to touch her, run my hands across the soft firm flesh of her ass and cup and squeeze the cheeks, making her moan wildly into my mouth. I know she won't give me what I want until I give her what she wants, but two can play at that game.

I wrestle my wrists free of her grip, hearing her gasp as I swiftly stand, holding her tight against me with my palms planted firmly on her thighs. She instinctively wraps her legs around my waist, nuzzling her face into my neck and inhaling deeply, resuming the wandering trail of kisses along the line of my jaw.

"What did she say Liv …?" She sing-songs in my ear, following her words with her tongue to trail around the sensitive spot behind. "Tell meeeeee …"

We almost make it to the bed, before I stumble slightly and realise that this will be the first time I have her in my bed and I'm allowed to touch her and love her any way that I want, and so the thought derails me, and we crash against the doorframe.

She feels me hesitate and looks up, grasping my face on either side as she runs her tongue across my lower lip, seeking entrance to show my mouth what she has planned for us. She's begging with her eyes, desperate for me to touch her.

"Liv … please?"

I drop her down onto the bed, crawling on top, shedding my shirt as I go. "You still want me to tell you about Donnelly?"

She nods, teasingly rolling her hips against my stomach, her blonde hair fanned out over the bed, she's so beautiful I almost forget I mean for this to drive _her_ crazy.

"Alright …" I agree, sitting up. My eyebrow shoots up, struggling in the same way my lips are from curling into a knowing smile. I lean forward to breathe huskily against her ear. "Every time you come, you get to ask a question."

Her voice drops a couple of octaves. "Liv …"

I grin, grabbing behind her knees as I pull her towards me. "Those are the rules, Alex."

She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. "I fail to see how there's a negative in there for me?" She mocks, teasingly.

Her bravado makes me growl, even submitting to me she somehow manages to retain an upper hand. I inch myself over her. "You're assuming I'm going to make it easy for you …" I tease, hovering above her as she writhes beneath, knowing any attempt she makes to gain more contact could make me pull away. "I'm not."

She groans. "Liv please."

I undress her slowly, first her sweater and shirt together, my hands pushing up underneath to reveal a milky white expanse of skin – it's soft and yet toned, from all the mornings she spends out pounding the running routes in Central Park.

The mental image of Alex in her tight running pants and sports bra distracts me for a moment, until she lifts her ass to beg for some contact against my middle.

"Liv … baby."

There's a husky need to her voice, she brings her hands down to run through my hair, urging me to hurry up my slow torture of undressing her.

"Liv, you're killing me."

I grasp her hands in my own, placing them over her head and forcing her to lie back and accept what's happening to her. "Patience, or I'll stop and then you'll never get to ask your questions."

She pouts. "This qualifies as torture." She whines, only relenting when I slide her shirt higher, following the path with my tongue, to reveal beautiful breasts encased in a pale blue lace bra.

"Off." I command, and she obliges, her willingness to give in drives me crazy.

"Take me Liv …" She purrs. "You know you want to."

I do want to.

I growl, again, my hands move to her pants and within seconds they join her shirt and sweater on the floor on the other side of the bed. She's beneath me in her underwear, flushed and panting and practically begging me to touch her. I rise up over her, and without giving any of the contact she craves I hold myself over the length of her body, whispering close against her mouth.

"Stay there."

She watches me from the bed, not moving – just as I instructed – but with her head slightly raised so she gets to watch me undress, my eyes never leaving her body until we're both down to our underwear and she starts to writhe.

"God Liv …"

Her voice drips with wanton need, and I almost pass out just from remembering how she feels - hot and wet and wrapped around my fingers, silently begging for more.

My panties, her bra, it all comes off in a hurried frantic mess, joining the rest of the clothes on the bedroom floor. She lifts her hips, meeting my hipbone with hot wet heat as she slides against me, her nails raking over the back of my shoulders.

"Oh … fuck …"

I could watch her come undone like this all day, her lips parted in wordless ecstasy as she waits for me to make my next move, knowing I'll get her there.

I fall against her, feeling the tingling of perspiration on her skin, we fit together so perfectly, the way she feels as she lies beneath me – writhing in pleasurable agony. I take hold of her hands, pinning them above her head as she fights me, raising her head from the bed to capture my bottom lip between her teeth and pull it roughly to her, drawing a growl from somewhere deep down inside.

"Liv …" She pants against my ear. "I don't give a fuck about Donnelly … just fuck me … please … I _need_ you."

Oh God, those words coming out of Alex's mouth, desperate and truly needy, I'm torn between taking her fast or dragging it slow, too overwhelmed to rationally decide.

I keep my hand up above, holding hers firmly in place, peppering her face with featherlight kisses as my other hands snakes a path down her body, coming to rest in the short damp curls at the juncture of her legs. She bucks her hips half-heartedly to meet by hand, the weight of my body preventing her from any real movement but she tries anyway.

"Please …"

I nod, kissing her firmly as my middle finger slips down and around, barely teasing her entrance. "Ok baby."

She moans loudly, writhing up and down as I move south, capturing one nipple in between my teeth and sucking hard as my finger dips partially inside her. She wriggles free of my grasp and moves her hands to grab the headboard.

"More … Liv, please!"

This is different, this need etched on her face, it's powerful and passionate like the fire behind her eyes when we'd fight sometime at work then talk about how we both needed the adrenaline to remind us that we're alive. Right now she's seeking the same release, the raw demanding energy that comes from having held a card in the wrong hand that was played. Me making her come won't change what happened, there's no bringing Sam Cavanaugh back or changing the decisions we acted upon, but maybe I can bring Alex back from wherever she's been hiding in the last few weeks.

I reach her abdomen, and she arches from the bed as I shove my tongue deep inside her belly button, swirling and licking before trailing a path back up her middle to rake my teeth across her nipple, rolling the other one between thumb and forefinger as my other hand does the same against her clit. She cries out wildly, not coming but almost, simply with the sheer force of it.

Her eyes fly open, searching for mine in a moment of rare uncertainty, and as I slide one finger into her, warm and wet and waiting, I creep back up her body to reassure her, eagerly adding another, and then another.

She frowns, taking in the stretch of me inside her. I search her face for something I'm afraid to find.

"Is this ok?"

She nods, slowly rocking her hips against my hand. "Please Liv, harder …"

I go to disappear back down her body again but she asks me to stay. "No … here …" Locking her right hand around the back of my head and pulling my down to kiss her.

Her kiss says everything she can't, that she needs me to take away the guilt she's carrying around, that she's sorry – for all the time we wasted and all the reasons we had for keeping the distance and the walls we built between us. A silent tear rolls down her cheek, and I can taste the saltiness on my tongue as I curl my fingers inside her, watching her stomach muscles clench as the base of my palm rubs against her clit.

"Oh God baby … right there … right there …"

She starts up a chant of my name, over and over like a liberation song or a prayer. I rake my teeth along her bottom lip and she drives her fingernails into the skin on my back, crying out my name as she comes.

Then I watch her fall, first violently – like the crescendo of those symphonies she loves to listen to so much, then softly and gently. A deep, long expanse of shattering and building and coming apart again until she can't fall any further and she's silent and limp in my arms.

Then tears come, and I realise that's okay because she asked me to be the one to break her, knowing that when it happened I'd be right there beside her to hold her close and put her back together again.

TBC

**Reviews rock – as do you guys so please leave me some :D**


	10. Chapter 10

**Same disclaimers apply …**

**A/N** – So I owe a huge apology to the readers of this story for abandoning it without a proper ending. It was one of those times when life kind of got in the way and then every time I came back to the last chapter to try and finish it I felt like I'd lost the flow of the story.

Anyway, I really hope this lives up to expectations. This is the last chapter. I'm working on another multi-chapter A/O story with a bit of a twist set around the most recent series but I wanted to get this one completed first.

As always, please review - I'd love to hear what you think.

As with previous chapters the italics indicate a flashback.

**Apartment of Alexandra Cabot, ADA**

**28 days later …**

"Alex?"

I take the key out of the latch, jostling a brown paper grocery bag and the Sunday papers – knowing Alex's thirst for news from the outside world since starting her suspension, and toss the groceries onto the counter top.

"Alex?"

I swear I sense her before I hear her, tiny invisible insects tingle my spine and the hairs on my bare forearms stand up on end in spite of the warm spring weather. I can almost see her standing behind me, navy blue pyjama pants hanging from her hips and her blonde hair tousled from bed. Time away from the office has been good for her – she finally learned how to sleep in.

"You should have woken me." She purrs, slipping her arms around my waist. I don't need to turn to see the smile on her face, the soft sigh as she inhales deeply, filling herself full of my scent tells me everything I need to know.

I'm so head over heels in love with her I almost don't want her to go back to work, in the world of the DA's office and the courthouse I have to share her with others who can look and stare.

Still, for today at least she's mine.

"What are you thinking?" She chuckles, stepping away to inspect the contents of the grocery bag.

I turn and face her, marvelling at the childish delight with which she unpacks fresh croissants, ham and cheese and her favourite blend of coffee beans. She starts with those first – tossing a quarter of the packet into the grinder and turning it on.

"Thanks for this Liv."

I grin. "You're welcome baby."

The term of endearment rolls so easily from my tongue. I worry how I'll cope seeing her back in pencil skirts, suits and killer heels – will I forget the Alex Cabot who's become addicted to reruns of Jeopardy and the Golden Girls.

"So …" She takes the freshly ground coffee and pops it into the holder before tapping, flattening and screwing it in place with all the flair of a finely skilled barista. Her coffee machine is her first love. "What's with the face Liv?"

She turns and I smile. "Nothing baby, nothing at all."

* * *

"_What's the matter Liv?"_

_A week and a half into Alex's suspension and my day had ended with a call from Liz Donnelly, telling me exactly what I didn't want to hear; Sam Cavanaugh suffered a brain haemorrhage and died. It was over. _

"_I trust you'll tell Alex?" Donnelly asked, with an air of compassion I'd never really heard her use before. _

_I nodded, not registering that she couldn't see me. "Yes …" I whispered. "I'll tell her."_

_Alex sat beside me on the couch, one foot balanced gingerly on the edge of the coffee table as she painted her toenails ruby red - red like her moods, volatile and passionate, unpredictable. _

"_Liv?"_

_My mind fell into a maze, each twist and turn another stumbling block on the rocky road of our two week long relationship, brought together by the dysfunctional mess that might ultimately be the thing to destroy us. The last week a bubble of harmonious bliss, coming home to Alex and dinner on the table, my laundry clean and folded and my girlfriend, starved of human contact and ready to pounce. _

_I hadn't realised she'd become a Stepford wife._

_She swung her feet round into my lap and wiggled her toes. "You like?"_

_I sighed, running my fingers over the silky smooth skin of her calves. "Alex … There's something I need to tell you."_

_Her toenails were dry by the time she'd done crying. "I'm going to take a bath." She mumbled, getting up and leaving me alone on the couch. _

_The take-out arrived a few minutes later; it sat untouched on the dining table until the next morning, whereupon I ate a stone cold egg roll on my way to work and placed the rest in the trash. Alex stayed in bed all that day, and the next, her depression impenetrable to humour, food and offers of sex._

_On the third day, out of fear, I called Donnelly. All the while my inner voice shouting, "This is breaking every rule."_

_She arrived at Alex's apartment a little after 5pm. I opened the door to let her in and we made a pretence out of the fact she'd not chewed mine and Elliot's balls off more times than I'd care to remember. She looked different, even though she arrived dressed just the same, kind of like when a child runs into their first grade teacher in the supermarket. _

"_She's in the bedroom." I said, gesturing. "Would you like something to drink?"_

_She smiled and placed her hand upon my sleeve, noticing – I suppose – that not having dared to go home in 3 days I was wearing Alex's clothes. "No thank you, I wont be staying."_

_With Liz gone, I nervously cleaned the kitchen, took out the trash – containing the uneaten Chinese, uneaten Thai and Italian from the various meals I'd tried to make her eat – and flicked through Alex's many cable channels, ultimately coming up cold. An hour later the door through to the bedrooms opened and Donnelly reappeared. _

"_I think she'll be okay now." She stated, just that, no details or explanation. "You did the right thing calling me Olivia."_

_And ever since then, I've been questioning whether or not she was right._

* * *

"Actually."

Shit. I could try and take it back.

But the truth is I have to know, before we go back to work and fall into the same routine as always. I have to know what Donnelly said to her, and whether a not-so-insignificant part of her is holding onto disappointment that I called Donnelly instead of handling it myself.

If roles were reversed, I doubt she would have called Elliot.

She turns to face me, just as the coffee machine starts spewing thick, rich espresso - filling the kitchen with the aroma of roasting hot Brazil. The cut on her forehead has completely healed, the bags beneath her eyes have gone and her cheeks have lost their sallow complexion. She's exceptionally beautiful, and she looks pretty irked right now.

"Liv, if you've got something to say, just say it." She clips, frostily.

I can see the serene and sublime day I have planned frantically ebbing away.

"Alex … I …"

She goes about making our coffees as if unaffected by my recent words; only her hands betray her with subtle tremors.

"Liv, don't make a meal out of it." She says resigned. "I knew this day was coming."

All of a sudden I recognise my mistake. She thinks I'm breaking up with her.

"Alex, baby …" Out of instinct I rush to her side and that's when I know it doesn't matter that her boss had the right words when I didn't. It was my arms she lay in later that night, not talking – just being silent together. Nothing she could ever do or say would keep me apart from her now, I can take it all.

She stiffens.

"I'm not breaking up with you, you fool." I whisper, burying my nose into the back of her hair. "Baby, how could you think that?"

She sinks; visibly shrinking into my body as she lets me hold her and plant kisses against the back of her unruly mane. "I thought …" Her voice trails off and I chastise myself for making her feel this way.

I grasp her upper arms and spin her in my embrace, holding her roughly against the kitchen counter. "Alex." I square up to her, making her look me in the eye, emphasising every word. "I'm not going anywhere."

With embarrassed eyes she avoids my gaze.

"I love you." I say, and for the first time in my adult life I mean every word.

"You love me?"

"Yes. Alex Cabot. *I* …" I grasp her hands and pull them into my chest, up against my heart. "Love *you* …"

"You _love_ me …" She mumbles again softly.

I love her.

With every day that goes by I find out something else about her to reinforce that love. It's not like a fantasy of love anymore - it's real. No moonbeams or puppy dog tails but real, physical, visceral love, the kind folks spend their whole lives dreaming about. She makes me want a particular kind of future for the very first time, 'our' future – tiny brunette children with crystal blue eyes and a predilection for arguing running barefoot through the apartment.

It's been inferred already but never said.

I knew I loved her, I mean I've known it since the moment we met – but every time the words made their way towards the surface my inner voice would rush to warn me of the dangers in wearing my heart upon my sleeve.

Turns out my heart isn't mine to protect anymore, it's hers.

"But I'm scared." I admit.

I'm scared of so many things. No one ever tells you that the flip side of being in love is this overwhelming, soul-incapacitating, all-encompassing dread that one day something will happen and I'll find myself without her.

I feel the need to add another rule to our ridiculous list, this being the most important one of all – _Alex can __never__ leave Olivia. _

She cups my face gently. "Scared of what sweetheart?"

Scared that tomorrow another case will come along with the potential to destroy us. Scared that we can't both do the job we do and come home at the end of the day without bringing a little bit of that evil with us. Scared that I love her too much to let this job take her from me. She doesn't need to stay anymore just to keep seeing me, but I know her better than she knows herself and I know that she wont just _quit_.

"Of this … of us …" I mumble. "What happens tomorrow when you go back to work, what about Donnelly? She knows, Elliot knows …"

Alex mirrors my rising panic with increasing calm, straightening up to tackle the problem head on. "Does it bother you, people knowing?"

"No." I reply sullenly. I want to pout because I feel like I'm not getting what I want, then all of a sudden it clocks that I've not yet asked for it. Maybe I'm growing up after all. "Alex, what did Donnelly say to you, that night?"

Her eyes darken for a moment, as if trying hard not to go back to that place, that's not what I want but I need to know.

"That's what's bothering you?" She asks, half amused.

I nod, and feel pathetic for my jealousy, I can't stand the thought that someone else knows more about her than I do.

"Liv …" My name leaves her lips in a sigh, coloured with relief and reticent anxiety. Her fingers trace the skin of my wrists as she chews her bottom lip, thinking. "She asked me if mourning Sam Cavanaugh was worth losing you over." She states softly. "And the answer was pretty simple, nothing is …"

"Oh Alex."

I capture her lips in a soft, tangential kiss, taking her arms and wrapping them around my waist as our bodies fall flush together. In awe of how every nerve ending in my body jumps with over-excited hyper-polarity at the feel of Alex beneath my fingertips. She's naked beneath the pyjama bottoms and worn out tee and I feel her nipples hardening through the thin shirt as my hands slip down to cup her naked ass.

"Liv …" She breaks the kiss to lean back in my embrace and stare wantonly at me.

The tiny insects are back, shooting in all directions from my spine to my shoulders before settling in the curve of my lower back, tightening deliciously. I wonder, momentarily, if she will always have this tremendous effect on me, and the thought of ever testifying for her in court again seems impossible.

I'd come in my seat.

Fuck.

She begins a trail from beneath my ear to the notch between my collarbones, swirling figures of eight with her tongue and blowing cool air over my moist, sensitive skin.

The insects join forces; pushing my pelvis towards hers in search of some much needed relief.

She chuckles, low and dirty and filled with an air of tease and torture. I'd pretend I've got the upper hand in all of this but I'd be sadly kidding myself.

"Too many clothes." She husks, slowly unzipping my unflattering grey hoodie as her lips recapture mine, filling my mouth with her tongue as the prelude for what she's got planned on her riotous journey of the rest of my body.

My mouth goes pliant and slack, replaced by the sensation of her, everywhere – in me and on me and urging me backwards. Before I know it I'm half naked on the couch, pants around my ankles and Alex's tattered Bruins shirt wrenched around my shoulders as she nibbles and nips at the swell of my breasts.

"Do you have 'any' idea what you do to me?" She mumbles, her face buried against me. The shirt hits the floor, followed seconds later by hers and then my bra as she rushes to bring our naked breasts together again, sighing at the contact.

Oh God. I've long suspected I could come from her words alone. The noise she makes just confirms this.

"Alex …" Her name escapes me in a pained squeak as her lips curl in a devilish smile, I am completely at her mercy and she knows it.

"You love me …" She ghosts across my ear and my eyes slam shut as the pain of orgasm rushes through my body, unaccompanied by any of the pleasure of release.

"Alex please …"

"You love me." She whispers again, her eyes locked into mine as her fingers slowly tease my nipples.

I need her to release me from this delicious pain I'm in. "Please … Alex … I'm gonna …"

Come.

I actually think it might happen.

Alex grinds her pelvis into me, covering my mouth again as she palms my breasts. Her tongue strokes mine - I think about all the places on me her tongue has been, and my orgasm edges ever closer.

"Fuck …" The word gets lost in her mouth.

She abandons my tormented nipples to wrap her arms around my neck, bringing her lips up to my ear again.

"I love you too." She rasps, hot breath tickling my ear. "I love making you come." My legs squeeze together in an attempt to relieve this blistering ache but with the weight of her in my lap, I can't. "I love the taste of you … the smell of you …" Her tantalising words infiltrate my subconscious, driving forth the most primal part of me. "I want you to come Liv …" She moans, wrapping her tongue around my earlobe and biting down softly. "I want you to imagine my tongue teasing you." She drags it around the soft shell of my ear. "My fingers inside you … reaching … curling …"

"Oh fuck …"

My body jerks and spasms, the most intense orgasm making its way out from my centre to the tips of my fingers and the tops of my toes – little insects returning on their journey.

Alex shifts to the side, slipping one hand inside my panties to cup my swollen flesh. Instinctively I move to grasp her wrist, needing to guide the pressure, as I've never experienced anything quite like that and I'm not sure how much I can take.

"Relax …" She coos. "I've got you."

Her fingers slide through copious moisture, circling my entrance before filling me completely.

"YESsssss."

The hiss escapes my lips, every nerve ending in my body on fire as her hand pumps slowly, in – and out, in – and out. Right when I think I can't take any more her thumb swipes my clit, opening a Pandora's Box of expletives that fall from my lips.

"Fuck … Alex … Oh shit … Oh God … Oh God … Oh … Arrrghhhhhh!"

My tense body falls, bonelessly dripping through time and space to fall meekly at my lover's feet. I am hers.

Hers.

She returns to my lap, covering my exhausted body with her own as her head rests comfortably against my chest, lulled by the sound of my frenetic heartbeat. Her fingers dance a pattern from my shoulder to my elbow and back again, unable to still when there's a part of my body she might have failed to explore.

Later, as she lies beside me on the bed - dozing from orgasm induced sleep, I think of all the things I've learnt from Alex's month long suspension …

Like how she hides her compassion beneath dark rimmed glasses and a legal pad because she's afraid of how others might use her feelings against her to trump justice. How she cries at the endings of sad movies or at talk shows where the host gives a down-on-their-luck family a new house or car or trip to Florida. That she's genuinely at her happiest wearing pyjama bottoms and a tank, curled beneath a blanket on the sofa with her current read and a glass of red - even better if her feet are in my lap whilst she's doing it. How she's known Donnelly and Branch and most of the current sitting Judges since she was a child: that she grew up wandering the halls of the courthouse and slipping unnoticed into trials whereupon she crafted her art. That she wants kids someday, but the very thought of it scares her because her parents – who lavished her with every opportunity that money could buy – were economical and parsimonious with the things that mattered, love, time and unconditional acceptance. That she loves me, and the thought of my not loving her equally in return makes her eyes darken, her lips quiver and her countenance crumble. I fear that she loves me more than life itself, because without my love she would consider living pointless.

* * *

**Apartment of Alexandra Cabot, ADA**

**The next morning …**

I wake before the alarm and slip, unnoticed, from the covers, leaving Alex splayed diagonally across the bed, cool cotton sheets covering her trim waist where she sleeps always on her front.

I tiptoe from the bedroom, pulling on Alex's pyjama pants and her Bruins t-shirt from the day before. We only made it out of bed to answer the door to the delivery guy, feeding each other slices of cold pizza whilst wrapped in bed sheets on the couch. The thought tickles me and I blush, remembering. Anyway, it's how I know there's still breakfast food in the fridge from the day before.

I fix orange juice and coffee, urging the grinder to work as quietly as can be, warming up croissants in the oven before slicing Swiss cheese and folding it with layers of thick crumbed ham in between. Delicious.

My mouth salivates as I arrange it decoratively on the tray. Feeling as though something is missing. I skip through to the living room, opening up the doors to the terrace and tenderly pluck two of Alex's bright orange star lilies. Perfect.

With tray in hand I push open the door to the bedroom with my foot, clearing my throat as I near her side of the bed.

"Alex … baby."

She moans and stretches before rolling wearily, the toll of yesterday's sexcapades evident in both our bodies. She lolls on her back, enjoying the way my mouth parts at the sight of her naked breasts.

"Is that for me?" She sits up, taking the sheet with her as I nod. "Oh Liv, thank you."

I scoot beside her on the bed, placing the tray across her lap. "It's your 'first day back at work' breakfast." I explain, blowing on her coffee before passing it to her.

She grins, her whole face alight by the most radiant and peaceful smile. Yesterday was a day for leaving all of the negativity behind, today it is Monday – and Alexandra Cabot, ADA is back.

"Whatever have I done to deserve you?" She whispers, capturing my lips in a soft morning kiss, our first of many today.

"I ask myself the very same thing." I gush, unable to keep at bay the rush of feelings I have for this amazingly beautiful and talented woman.

After breakfast she hits the shower and I allow it - knowing that if I go in there too then she'll be late for her return meeting with Branch and Donnelly. I can assault her later in her office when we're alone. By the time I'm done with my own shower, she's applying a pair of tan stockings to luscious legs. My breath halts in my chest, taking in the visage of Alex Cabot in pale mauve lace underwear as she fastens her stockings to her matching suspenders.

"I love these …" She turns, running her fingers over the lace of the expensive present I bought to mark her return to work. Why I felt the need to torture myself in this way I've really no idea.

I dress myself methodically, watching her tease her hair into shiny blonde waves before applying a navy blue blouse and grey pinstripe skirt. She volumises the lashes around her eyes, putting on a little liner and blush before turning to face me, her hands smoothing the invisible lines of her skirt.

"How do I look?"

I hold up her jacket and she steps into it, the material falls perfectly onto her shoulders and just like that she's transformed from Alex Cabot – watcher of Golden Girls, crier at movies, bedspread hog – into Alexandra Cabot, defence attorneys formidable opponent.

"You look amazing baby."

She stands in front of me as I clip on my badge and gun, ready to face the day. It's the first time in the rest of our lives that we'll leave for work together and it feels significant and mundane at the same time. She slips her hand into mine and squeezes firmly.

"You ready?"

I laugh, because I am. Ready for everything our life throws at me.

"Always."

**The end.**

**Reviews are love … **


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